The Goblin King's Daughter
by Chibi-no-oneesan
Summary: It's been nineteen years since Sarah ran the Labyrinth, but the fair folk haven't forgotten the Labyrinth's Champion and Sarah finds herself seeking help from the Goblin King when her twelve year old daughter is taken. One catch. It's his daughter, too.
1. Prologue

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Prologue

The eyes of the court were upon him as he moved forward to stand before the dias containing the roughly hewn throne of his father. Once upon a time, the grizzled old man had been one of the most feared rulers of the Underground. He'd garnered power and following that had actually rivaled that of Oberon, the High King of the realm. He had been called the High King of the Unseelie in secret. He'd been as wise as he was ruthless, and had strategically taken over kingdom after kingdom for centuries.

However, that was long ago, before Oberon had discovered the rival and sent his most powerful weapon against them. That weapon was the Goblin King.

He went to his knees before the man, taking an unsteady breath. "You summoned me, King Bram," he said, keeping his voice calm and serious.

"Prince Kieran, I've a mission for you."

He frowned, lifting his face and looking at his father. "A mission?" Did this mean that the senile old bastard had finally discovered that he had use beyond mean tasks that no one else wanted to dirty their hands with? The much older fae was starting to look his age, lines cutting deeply across his darkly tanned face, his dark hair hanging in tangled strands around his face. In those hazel eyes, there was an air of madness that Kieran recognized.

No, he had not been recognized. This would be another menial task.

Kieran felt his heart fall slightly and lowered his head once more. "What is the task you wish me to complete, my lord?" He kept his voice emotionless.

"Spies in the above have located the one who stole the power of the Goblin King," the king said, his face filled with glee. "It is our understanding that she is his one weakness. You will...acquire her, and bring her to me. She will hold the secret to returning the power to our kingdom."

Whispers around the room. Why entrust such an important mission to a child like him? Why give him that much recognition? The child of a commoner, one born out of wedlock. He didn't belong here; he was only useful for mercenary tasks.

He straightened, looking at his father. "It shall be done," he said, then turned, moving out of the room, his face expressionless. He returned to his room, where his current lover was lounging about, wearing nothing but skin. He looked at her, scooped her clothing into one hand and heaved it out of the room, then grabbed her arm in a tight grip. "Get out. Don't come back."

Then she followed her clothing.

He slammed the door shut with a violent shove and threw the lock. He didn't want company right now. He wanted to escape this reality for a short time. Find a place where he would be accepted as something more than he was here. None of these fools ever looked at him for his mind, they didn't see his potential for greatness. All they saw was the king's illegitimate child, heir only because the king had no other surviving children after the Goblin King had struck back from their attacks.

He hadn't been good enough to stand on that field with his brothers – all from Bram's wife – and his mother. His mother had been a woman who'd been the best strategist in the Kingdom and had been the commander of the king's army. She was a woman that men respected and feared. He, however, had only been good enough to slip into the back of the castle and assassinate the king.

Assination was considered a low task to the fae, something dirty, something that was never admitted to. It did not create glory for the assassin, did not increase their status in any way. It made them dirty, for such things were considered heinous. Especially assassinating a king. Only the lowest in society – mercenaries, slaves, and servants – were given such tasks. And yet, he, a prince, had been given this task as well.

Too bad they did not realize the goblin king was the polar opposite of King Bram.

King Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom didn't mind getting his own hands bloodied, and he'd rode the charge into battle, his goblin army holding off the throngs of attacking fae. Meanwhile, Bram had sat safe in his castle, plotting the downfall of the High King, after the Goblin King was out of the way. His task, while important, was fruitless, and he'd quickly gone to join the battle, hoping to be of some use to his family that way. He'd watched his brother's fall before the Goblin King's blade, and his mother – the only family he had that showed even the slightest devotion to him – died trying to protect her only son, and the sole remaining prince.

The Goblin King had stood over him for a long moment, looking down at him and the woman who in her armor appeared to be a man and his sword had lowered. He'd not said anything as he turned and walked away, sparing his life for no reason Kieran would ever know.

The court and his father had lain blame of the loss upon his young shoulders, because he'd failed in killing the other king.

Hell, even he blamed himself. If he'd been successful in his mission then his brothers and mother might still live.

He looked into his mirror, looking at the eyes that proclaimed him pollution in the royal line, those eyes like glittering gold. A stamp of sin. He was also tall, taller than his father at the man's prime. He was just under a century old now, and was on the verge of becoming a man, but his people did not view him as such. They viewed him as nothing more than a bother.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It was almost disgusting. It was too easy. Changing his form and flying for a portal in the Goblin Kingdom, finding the portal unguarded. He'd slipped through the portal, wondering if his father's words were true. Had a mere human managed to seal the powers of the Goblin King? Was the older fae going senile and starting to show his age, much like his own father was?

It mattered not.

He slipped through, blending among the ravens that were already there. Granted, his form was slightly larger than the others. His eyes were gold instead of black as well. Still, unless a mortal was right upon him, they'd never notice.

He had been told that Sarah Williams, champion of the Labyrinth, was a girl of fifteen years, however, the one he'd located was no mere child. She was a woman, and she appeared to have a daughter of her own. He knew she had to be the champion- the description he'd been given was too perfect. They were identical. He tried, but failed to focus on the woman, his eyes instead being drawn to the child.

He stared at her, his gaze becoming intense. Those of fae bloodlines could sense the blood in another, and his instincts were screaming at him. That was no mortal child. That girl had the blood of the fairy in her, and judging by her coloring and her mother, he suddenly had an idea of who the child should call father.

Her hair was medium length, honey blonde at the root, lightening to pale gold at the tip. Her eyes were large, almost too large for a human. And her brows...only those of the royal lines had the brows that slanted up like that. Even he, with mixed blood, still had those brows.

That girl was the daughter of the Goblin King, Kieran realized and his interest sharpened. It was the only explanation. He suddenly had a brilliant idea of how to truly gain his position in his father's kingdom, and he was going to have to kidnap that girl to obtain it.


	2. Chapter 1

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter One

Sarah Williams parked the car in front of the school, glancing out through the rain streaked window. Through the driving rain she could see a form huddled under the overhang, trying to stay dry. She smiled softly, opening the car door and walking out, ignoring the icy pelt of the rain.

As soon as she closed the car door, a head that still didn't quite fit the gangly child's body lifted, revealing features that were both a source of love and pain for Sarah. She would have to be blind to not know that when her daughter grew into that face and when the body filled out with the curves it was starting to have, Erin Williams was going to be the most lovely girl in school.

Unfortunately, so did all of the young girl's schoolmates, and her heart broke as her eyes set upon the dark bruise under her daughter's eye. Sarah sighed, moving towards the girl and opening an umbrella to keep the girl dry. "Another fight?"

Erin's eyes, large and filled with knowledge that no girl her tender age of twelve should have. "You know it was already," the girl answered back, stepping under the umbrella, ignoring her mother's apparent concern, as the hem of her long coat grew wet from where it drug on the ground.

Sarah was quiet as she observed her daughter, quiet as she watched the way her daughter favored her right shoulder and left knee as they moved. Once they were in the warm safety of the car, she finally spoke again. "How bad is it?" She faced her daughter, looking over the girl, her hands patting her hair, searching for bumps and other bruises.

Erin – independent, stubborn Erin – thrust out her chin, tilting her head to the side, a look of familiar defiance covering her face. "You should see the other girl."

She couldn't help it, a snort of laughter left her, an indelicate sound, and it caused herself and her daughter to begin chortling harder. She turned again, focusing on the child, at the splash of freckles that went across the nose that had the same slope her own had at that age. It had been around then that her father had remarried Karen, and only a short time later when the woman had become pregnant with Toby.

Toby.

Sarah grew faintly serious, her laughter dying. It really was with that boy that everything had begun, even if her own actions had caused everything to end. Well, perhaps not everything. She cast a look towards her daughter and smiled, ruffling the girl's hair. "Come on, rugrat. Let's get you home so we can put something on that eye."

She pulled onto the street, starting the drive home, her eyes continually drawn to her daughter.

Something about her had always been eye-catching, from the time she'd first set eyes on the girl. She'd come out with a full head of hair, eyes part-way open as though speculating about the world she'd just been brought into. Alex Fletcher, her husband at the time, had taken one look at the beautiful child and then walked out of the room.

The next time she saw him was when she returned home and found that he'd cleaned out the apartment of everything except a note and a bundle of papers that she found were for a divorce. He took everything he could in the divorce, with the exception of Erin and the pile of hospital bills that he refused to pay, since Erin was 'obviously not his daughter'.

So many people speak of how marriages rarely survive the first year these days, but she hadn't expected hers to end in failure. Suddenly, she was a single mother who only had acting on her resume, and no job prospects whatsoever. In the years that followed, she lived in her father's home, going to school full time, while working her ass off at two full time jobs to pay off her bills, wishing desperately that she'd taken her parents advice and graduated from college before she'd gotten married to the bastard who had hamstrung her.

Granted, Alex had been thrilled with the prospect of being a father. What had infuriated him was the coloring of the child. Blond hair that brightened to nearly white at the tips, eyes that even at birth showed signs of being light in color. If she'd been born with Sarah's own hair, the eyes might have not been an issue. After all, her own eyes were green and her father's had been blue. However, everyone on the other side of the family showed darker coloring. Everyone on his side of the family had come in and called her whore to her face before leaving with a flouncing indignity that would have caused Sarah to laugh if she wasn't watching her carefully constructed world fall apart around her.

As a result, on Erin's birth certificate, there's no father listed. It helped that Sarah had a sneaking suspicion that she knew who the father was, and couldn't for all the money in the world figure out how she'd gotten pregnant from a man she'd not seen in almost seven years. The suspicion only grew as her daughter's eyes settled into the final colors of blue and green.

Since then, Alex had come to her, seeming to want to reconcile their differences, bringing gifts and such, especially in more recent years. However, whenever they spoke the topic always turned towards his firm belief that she'd cheated on him during their engagement or shortly after the wedding. She couldn't deny that Alex wasn't the father and make it believable, so she didn't. Every time he set eyes on Erin, he grew angry about the child's existence, and as a result, Sarah knew that they would never really get back together.

Sarah never called upon the real father, never told him that somehow they'd managed to create a miracle. Then again, she'd not seen nor heard from him in thirteen years, since that one night before her wedding. Since the night where he'd explained that once her marriage was consummated those who had been permanent fixtures in her life would be gone forever.

It had been a dream, of course. That was the only way he'd come to her after she'd reclaimed Toby. After the party had worn down and she'd collapsed in her bed, she'd had what at first she'd thought to only be a dream. In that dream, she met the Goblin King in the broken remains of the crystal ballroom, and she'd seen the face of a man who had been carelessly tossed aside. He looked bitter, pained.

Then his eyes had fallen upon her and there was shock and anger. They'd fought, argued so fiercely that she'd been astonished that two people could be so furious with each other in a dream. In the end, she'd found herself backed against one of the pillars, and his heat had pierced her clothing. However, he did not touch her.

He'd asked her point blank why she was there, and she'd blinked, confused. Her innocent answer was that she needed him, too. All of them had meant just that. She needed all of them, including her adversary. His face had changed then. From bitter and angry to filled with a wonder that she'd never seen on the face of an adult. He looked as if she'd just handed him the world.

After that, she always found him in her dreams. Sometimes he didn't join her, but he was always there. So began the strangest courtship she'd ever likely experience; an affection so strong that it pierced the veil between their worlds, and allowed them to meet in her – or perhaps their – dreams. However, once she was married, once she had sex with her husband and took that final step towards becoming an adult, the dreams stopped.

Just like he'd said they would.

"You're thinking about him again," Erin said softly.

Sarah blinked, glancing towards her daughter before returning her gaze to the road. "What, Erin?"

Those mismatched eyes turned towards her and Sarah swallowed hard. Those eyes always saw more than Sarah really wanted. So much like _his_ eyes...

"You're thinking about him again. My real father."

Sarah flinched slightly. There was no way to deny it without directly lying to the child, and she hated lying to her daughter. "Yes," she finally said softly. "Sorry."

Erin was quiet for a long moment. "I'm getting hungry," she said, letting Sarah know that the girl wasn't going to pursue the topic. She'd never pursued the topic. It was like she was waiting for Sarah to be ready to tell her. Or she knew something that she wasn't saying.

She nodded, smiling at her daughter. "What do you want?"

Erin smiled back, and Sarah couldn't help but notice that the dark bruise that had blackened her daughter's eye had faded to a lightening purple.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

They'd stopped at the local Chinese food restaurant for their snack, sharing a plate of fried rice. As regulars, it was set between them with hot tea before they'd ever placed their order. Erin sat there, one leg pulled up to her chest, twirling the chopsticks in one hand. "Can we buy some cakes or something?"

"We'll get donuts before we leave. Is that alright?"

Her daughter hummed an agreement, looking rather bored. Finally, Sarah wiped her mouth and leaned back, fixing her daughter with a calm look. "So, what was it this time?"

Her daughter's unusual brows became a v on her forehead, showing her upset. The bruise had faded further at this point, barely yellow. It should have taken almost a week for it to fade so much, but it had taken scant hours. "They called you a whore," she said softly, her voice dark, angry.

Sarah closed her eyes, sighing softly. She'd thought so. Her daughter was already quick to anger, and throwing that word at the woman who'd raised her was the fastest way to feel the sharp side of the girl's temper. She reached over, setting a hand gently on her daughters. She searched those turbulent eyes for a long moment and finally smiled. "Let them think what they want."

"I can't stand hearing them say something like that about you..." she whispered, putting her face on the table. "I try to get along with the others, it's just impossible...I'm different."

Those words sent a tiny ring of fear scrambling up her spine. She shook it off and squeezed the girl's hand. "I never got along well with my peers either. I only call a few people friend, and most of them have disappeared among the pages of my life," she lowered her face, not letting her daughter see the pain on it.

"Like my real father?"

Her head jerked up and she saw a speculative look on the girl's face. A shudder worked through her and she swallowed hard. "Erin, I haven't seen your birth father in a very long time. Since the night before I married Alex." She sighed softly, running a hand through her dark hair. "Our story is very complicated, and he wasn't very happy when he found out about the wedding. He told me it would be the last time I'd see him."

Erin sighed, lowering her head. "I guess he never knew about me, then..."

"No," Sarah agreed sadly. "He never knew..."

The girl grew upset, stiff almost, and Sarah wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing she could say. Sarah stroked the hand on the table gently and then stood, smiling at her daughter. "Let's go get those donuts."

They rode home, eating their donuts, Erin consuming them with a vigor that made Sarah smile slightly. As they pulled into the driveway, Sarah found another car there and discomfort gripped her heart roughly. She gestured for Erin to remain within as she got out, looking at the man who stood on her front porch.

His dark hair was brushed carefully, he was dressed carefully, and the smile on his face was as fake as everything else about the man. Her hands clenched tightly into fists as she looked at the man she'd not seen in many years. "Alex," she said, her reception cool. She moved around the car, shouldering her purse and taking her daughter's back pack from the trunk.

"Sarah, darling, how have you been-"

"I've been fine, and if you call me darling again I'll rip your tongue out of your mouth." She said it calmly, as if they were doing nothing more than discussing the weather. She opened her door for her daughter, holding the girl as far away from Alex as she could. He approached the girl, and her daughter did something that startled her as well as the man on the porch.

She snarled.

It was a rage-filled sound, not welcoming in the slightest, holding nothing but hostility and hate. That sound from her daughter's throat sounded inhuman. Sarah swallowed and gave her daughter a squeeze. "Go on inside, sweetheart, I'll be in shortly."

"You don't have to waste a second on him, Mom," Erin said coldly.

"Erin, please."

Mismatched eyes lifted to her face, searching it and after a tense moment, the girl nodded, taking her bag and disappearing into the house. Once she was gone, Sarah relaxed a bit. She sighed softly, shaking her head. "Alex, I have work I need to do before bed tonight. If you want to talk again, call first, so that I don't have to deal with seeing you at my place. There are no memories of you here, and I don't want any-"

His hands slammed on either side of the door, trapping her against it. "You're making a mistake, Sarah. I want to try again, I want to be with you again. I'll even take care of Erin-"

She lifted her face and said calmly. "Too little, too late. You had an opportunity to love Erin twelve years ago, and opportunity to love me. A chance to share in my success. You've had twelve years and multiple opportunities to attempt an apology, and yet you show up on my door now, after I've made a name for myself, expecting to be welcomed with open arms. I'm not that hard up for a romantic relationship, Alex. I've got someone who needs my love, and she's got everything I can give." She turned to go into her home, and Alex put a painful grip on her wrist.

"What makes you think that this is your decision-"

She reached down, curling her free hand around his privates and squeezing until he started to pale. She leaned close to his ear and spoke softly. "I am not the naïve little girl you hurt all that time ago. I've grown up, and I don't have any time to spare for bastards like you. Now get off my property before I call the police..."

She released him, watching as he staggered down the porch, looking furious. Sarah watched until his car disappeared down the road before she went inside.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah jerked upright in her bed, her breathing ragged, covered in a thin layer with sweat. Gooseflesh rose on her arms from the chill produced by the dampness. Her pajamas were soaked, and her hair stuck to her skin. A shudder worked through her and she glanced at her hands finding them shaking. To give her something to do with them, she chaffed her arms to warm them.

She wasn't entirely certain what might have pulled her from the depths of her sleep. It might have been nothing more than a bad dream; however there was a strange sense of foreboding that seemed to suffocate her. She swallowed hard, shaking her head.

She was being ridiculous. That sense of foreboding probably had more to do with the fact that she'd just heard from her ex-husband for the first time since the divorce had been final. She wasn't surprised by it. Shortly after he left with his tail between his legs, she'd called her brother to find out that he man's job at the oil company had failed, and he was hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt with no job to pay for it. She would have seemed a perfect target, as her birth mother was a wealthy actress, her father was a wealthy lawyer, and she'd recently gotten a quite good job as chief editor at a publishing house- a job which meant that she could stay home for Erin.

Speaking of which, Erin had turned strange after Alex, had shown up at their doorway. No, strange wasn't the right way to put it. She'd gotten cold, had spoken less than a handful of words before retreating into the house. The rest of the evening, Erin had been quiet, almost hostile.

Sarah certainly couldn't blame the girl for her cool reception. When she'd realized who was standing on her doorstep wearing a warm smile, she'd come very close to punching him in the face. She hated the man who had thrown her away like used tissue, simply because the daughter didn't look like him. Alex, after all, had dark hair and brown eyes. Sarah's hair had darkened to the color of ebony as she grew older, and more recently had started to show an alarming trend of white at her temples. However, her Erin had hair the color of honey at the roots, and faded to something closer to platinum at the tips. Always, her hair had faded like that, even when cut.

Sarah pushed those thoughts away; the feeling that was crushing her didn't seem so simple as to be related to earthly emotions. Another shudder ripped through her as she finally slipped out of the bed, stuffing her feet in the warm, slippers – kitty slippers, a gift from Erin from that Christmas – that were waiting. She rose out of the bed, pulling down a worn terrycloth bathrobe and wrapping it around herself for extra warmth.

Dread was settling into her stomach as she left the room and began moving down the hall. The nightlight lit the hall with an eerie blue light. The house wasn't large, but that hallway seemed to stretch on forever for some reason. The farther she moved, the stronger the sensation became.

Needless to say, as unnerved as she was, it came as a great relief when she finally reached her daughter's room.

She opened the door to the room and stepped inside, finding the room sweltering. Her daughter's face was dotted with sweat and she sighed, cracking the window to let some of the cool night air in. Taking a moment, she glanced around the room, finding a faint smile turning up her lips.

Erin had been the person in charge of decorating this room, and much as her own had been as a youth, it was covered with a smattering of hodge podge which caused most adults to go crazy, however it may have comforted her. However, Sarah wasn't like her own parents, and she understood her whimsical and temperamental child far better than others. The colors were not pastel pink, they were shades of orange and purple and bright green which would set nearly anyone on edge, however Erin said that they made her comfortable and that was more important to Sarah than how fashionable her child's room might be.

Finally, she moved over and sat beside her daughter on the edge of the bed, staring down at the child who was both a blessing and a curse. That honey colored hair that seemed to lighten towards the tips hung around the child's face wildly, some strands sticking to her damp skin. Chocolate brows that arched up the youth's forehead enough to remind Sarah of the man she suspected to be the father. Freckles dotted young cheeks, and Sarah reached down, lightly smoothing her daughter's soft hair back.

She was fine. Sarah smiled faintly, blowing out a sigh of relief.

She sat there, looking down at her daughter for a long time, simply stroking her child's hair. Still, that feeling of fear and dread still rubbed against her and finally she stood, moving towards the door, giving her daughter one final glance before she closed the door behind her and went to check the rest of the house.

She checked the lock on the front door first, and then the back. Both were locked. All the windows were sealed against intrusion. Her security system was still active. She walked into the kitchen, trying to shake off the unease.

Since the night of her wedding the fairy realm had stayed well enough out of her life. No matter how she called, she could never contact her friends from the Underground. The only she'd never tried to call was Jareth, too afraid of his reaction to seeing her again. She wasn't certain she could stand seeing hate on his face. In fact, the last time she'd seen any of them was thirteen years ago, this very evening, when Jareth had given his warning.

What bothered her most was that the feeling she had now reminded her of that moment when Toby's cries stopped eighteen years ago. The night she'd run the Labyrinth, the night she'd met _him_...

Her hands trembled at the memory. Ruthlessly, she pushed the memory away, shaking her head and reminding herself that The Goblin King couldn't be coming for her daughter now. If he'd been interested or even known about her existence, he would have come back then, not now.

She shook the thought from her head, before the tears started. They always did when she thought about that time. He _had_ warned her the night before her wedding that once she took that step she would have officially left her childhood behind her. After that, her friends wouldn't be able to reach her. They wouldn't hear her call.

She pulled a glass out of the cabinet over the sink and poured herself some water. She took a long drink from the glass and left it on the counter. She would check her daughter one more time and only then go back to bed. It would prove that she had nothing to worry about, and perhaps she'd be able to get some sleep.

However, as her foot hit the bottom step, the unease condensed into fear and she began moving quickly up the stairs, her breaths growing ragged with each step. Her heart told her that there was danger in her house, that something was coming. She only hoped that she wasn't too late.

She pushed the door to her daughter's room open and stepped within. The sheer curtains blew in the breeze, and it took her a moment to notice that the window was open much wider than the crack she'd originally allowed.

On the ledge perched a raven, looking at her through glowing, gold eyes. She moved slowly towards the bed, and glanced towards her daughter. When her eyes returned to the bird, it was gone. In its place was a young man with black hair and golden eyes. His skin was sun-kissed bronze, and he seemed more boy than man, caught at the brink of adolescence. Black smoke seemed to surround him before it faded. He was dressed all in black, from his cloak to his boots, to his gloved hands.

One of the fair folk, she realized.

Fear became panic and Sarah felt her throat close. "No," she whispered, unable to speak louder. She moved to grab her child, but her body froze, and she couldn't move. She tried, she tried hard, but her body was stuck. She couldn't move a muscle, nor use her voice. Tears filled her eyes at the seeming hopelessness of the situation.

The creature moved towards her, resting a hand upon her shoulder. A shudder worked through her as those fingers squeezed slightly. The touch was surprisingly gentle, like someone seeking to calm a frightened animal. It made her wonder what he viewed her as. The voice that met her ears was faintly accented, quiet.

"It's nothing personal," the teen said. "However she is necessary for our plans, so I shall take her." That hand squeezed faintly. "It would be best if you forget what happened here tonight."

She could do nothing except watch as her daughter was lifted out of her bed and the young man walked towards the window. She wanted to rage, to scream out her fury. No one takes her daughter to the fairy realms. The spell which held her captive seemed to evaporate and she moved instantly, running towards where the threat stood. With her ability to move came her voice. She didn't bother restraining the cry that left her. "ERIN!"

The child woke instantly at the sound and volume of her voice and shifted, looking over her captor's shoulder. "Mom? MOM!" Her struggles must have taken the fae by surprise, because he gasped softly. Then, he tightened his grip on her, and suddenly black mist was swallowing them. As they disappeared, she got the faintest impression of black wings, and a few feathers fell to the bedroom floor.

Tears fell down her face and she trembled in shock as her knees gave and she fell to the floor, right where her daughter had vanished. Those black feathers rested right in front of her. Her hands curled into fists and she struck the floor furious, a scream of pain and frustration leaving her lips.

A moment later the rage within her turned cold. She rose from the floor slowly, bringing those feathers with her. Her steps were measured as she returned to her bedroom and she walked to her closet, pulling down a padded leather jerkin that was a throwback from her acting days. A poets' shirt followed, dug from the depths, as well as a pair of leather trousers.

She stripped from her pajamas, then dressed carefully, ran a brush through her hair until the mass of dark strands shone. She pulled them up and away from her face, fashioning a messy ponytail that more hair hung out of than stayed contained.

Digging in her closet some more, she found her amber pin, as well as a pair of sturdy riding boots. The riding boots went on first, followed by the pin. A quick rummage through her drawer and she found her little red book with its gold letters. She swallowed hard, tucking it into the jerkin, and then pulled a tiny ring from her trinket box.

She glanced into the mirror, deciding that she was as good as ready. She had her game face on, and she was dressed for battle. Thirteen years to the night since she'd last heard his voice, and even that wasn't actually real. She wasn't certain she could handle this.

She was, however, certain that she didn't have any other options.

Finally, taking an unsteady breath, she spoke, "Jareth, I need you."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Erin Williams only had a moment to feel shocked as her room gave way to soft forest, but she couldn't say that it lasted very long. After all, she was the daughter of Sarah Williams, a woman who practically breathed magic into stories. It would have been difficult to _not_ believe in the worlds that her mother had sometimes told her of. Besides that, she was a little too worried about what had happened to her mother to be shocked for long

Most pressing at the moment, however, was that Erin was the woman's daughter and wasn't about to take being made a damsel in distress sitting still.

A well placed heel caught her captor in an area that always hurt, and he released her with an obscenely creative curse. She hit the ground, rolled to her feet and was sprinting through the forest as fast as her bare feet would take her – hopefully before the idiot knew what had hit him. She was suddenly deeply grateful for her mother playing hide and seek in the forest near their home, because the result was that she could move surprisingly fast over uneven terrain. She hooked trunks, changing direction as quick as a thought, jumping over high roots and dodging under low hanging limbs.

Unfortunately, she was on foot.

Her captor apparently didn't to have to worry about that little handicap.

She'd just rounded another tree when a large bird dived into her path and before it hit the ground it was replaced with a furious man. Two arms snatched around her waist and she let out an indignant shriek. She struggled, again trying to kick the man between his legs, but he seemed aware of this game now.

"Knock it off, or I'll be forced to use a sleeping spell on you until we reach our destination!"

She leaned down just enough to get her teeth on his arm and bit down as hard as she could. She had to commend him for not dropping her. As it is, he swore with severe precision, threatening her in several ways that only made her clamp down harder with her teeth. However, he still didn't release her. She finally resigned herself to the fact that she was caught – for now at least – and wasn't getting away. Yet.

She released his arm, and after a tense moment, he set her feet on the ground. His hand wrapped into her hair and he forced her forward, using that part of her to keep grip as well as vital parts of himself out of her reach. Tears pierced her eyes at the pain, but she refused to whimper or cry out. She was the daughter of Sarah Williams. And this idiot had no idea what that meant. She forced her back straight, her hands curled into tight fists.

"I suppose I should have expected the daughter of the Goblin King to be a pain in the ass," came a mutter from behind her.

She frowned faintly, arching a brow. The Goblin King? Her lips pursed and she inclined her head, then dismissed the information. She'd suspected for years that her mother's tale of the Goblin King was more than just a story, especially since the woman had always gotten a sad, distant expression on her face whenever she told it.

The rest of the words registered and a niggling of joy she wasn't sure she really wanted to admit just yet surged. She'd always hoped that Alex Fletcher wasn't her father. He'd never liked her, and as a result, she'd never liked him. The only memory she had of the man was when she'd pulled out her mother's wedding album to ask who the stuffy man in the picture was. Her mother had told her calmly, and her mother wasn't stingy on details. It was like the first time she'd read the story 'Deerskin', the horror and upset was a very real thing, even if it was nothing more than a story.

Still, daughter of a king? Wouldn't that be a bug in everyone's backside? She didn't bother hiding the faint grin at that little piece of knowledge. She idly wondered why her mother hadn't told her this little story before.

Obviously, her captor saw the upturned lips and it made him nervous, because he suddenly gripped her around her waist and lifted her onto a fallen tree trunk that was nearly chest high on him. It wrung a gasp from her, because she wasn't used to being around someone that strong. He'd lifted her as if she weighed nothing at all.

The move put her well above him, and he put a hand on either side of her, looking at her, his gold eyes intense. Finally, she allowed herself to examine her captor's face for the first time since he'd kidnapped her; smooth, softly-tanned skin, black hair that hung wildly around his head in uneven layers, golden eyes that seemed to be trying to look into her soul. He was glaring at her, trying to intimidate her, trying to frighten her. "What exactly do you find so amusing about your situation? You're my _prisoner_, my _hostage_, and therefore you're completely at my mercy."

She inclined her head, suddenly curious.

He continued his intimidation tactic as she silently observed him. All of her mother's stories had stated that even the fae that looked beautiful and young were usually quite old, sometimes by centuries. They were calculating, tricky, and very intelligent. This one did not seem any of those things to her, not here, not now. In fact, she couldn't help but get the impression that he wasn't old at all. His attempts to scare her were shockingly feeble. He seemed strangely young to her, and she had a hunch that if you measured his maturity against a mortals, he would be little more than an adolescent.

The man must have become unnerved by the scrutiny, because he swore, pacing away from her, walking back and forth for several long moments. She set her hands on either side of herself feeling soft moss growing on the rough trunk. She watched him pace through wide, innocent eyes, swinging her legs back and forth.

After a moment, she spoke, her voice filled with amusement. "You don't want to do this," she said with confidence. She didn't bother hiding her faintly snarky grin when he whirled on her, his gaze filled with hostility.

"And why not? You're the key to bringing down the Goblin King. I can just see Jareth squirming in his over-polished boots. His precious daughter whisked off by the Unseelie, whatever shall he do?" He stalked towards her, setting his hands on either side of where she sat. "Exactly _why_ wouldn't I want to do this?"

She leaned towards him, not looking away from his eyes, which were made dark from anger. She wasn't intimidated by him in the slightest. Why should she be? "You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

"I believe I just mentioned I did. You're the daughter of the Goblin King."

She shook her head. "I wasn't referring to my paternal line. I've never even met the Goblin King." She leaned closer, so that she forced him to look up to hold her gaze and pointed a finger into his collarbone. "You don't know who my mother is. You've no idea who you've just brought down upon you." At his expression of confused interest, she gave a faint smirk. "My full name is Erin Marie Williams, and long before you told me that my father was the Goblin King, I was raised in the Above by the champion of the Labyrinth." There was a flicker of surprise in that gold gaze – surprise mixed with slight fear. "Sarah Williams is my mother, you idiot. And she's going to tear the Underground apart to find me, and when she does, you're going to learn just how cruel she can really be..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

_AN: __A little something to keep everyone hanging on. Now is when the story really gets started, and it's going to be a long and bumpy ride ^.-_

A note as well: Ages ago, I drew a picture called Blackbird, that had no story to go with it, but it inspired my beta well enough that she sent me an e-mail with an idea. This story is the result. She is also working with me to edit and improve on the story as we go. So, while you thank me, also thank her.


	3. Chapter 2

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Two

Jareth stood in his bedroom, staring out at his moonlit kingdom. It was a cold, lonely night, as every night for the past thirteen years had been. He'd warned her what would happen, had hoped that the warning would convince her to cast aside the mortal she'd decided to wed.

In the time that Sarah Williams had been in his life, he'd learned all different forms of adjectives to describe living. Unfortunately, those two – cold and lonely – were the two that he used the most frequently.

Even with a kingdom full of rowdy, miscreant goblins, somehow, he felt alone. He detested that word, detested that even after repeated attempts to forget her, he could not. Front and center of his dreams was the girl who had caused him equal parts frustration and warmth even after so long. Remembering her smile, remembering her laughter – even if they were the ones inside her dreams, for she'd never given him that warmth in the flesh – caused joy and sadness.

He was exhausted this evening, yet somehow he could not sleep. He did not know why, he simply felt a strange anxiety rubbing at his nerves, like something was about to happen or had happened that he needed to take note of. He smiled morbidly. Perhaps Sarah had finally forgotten him and that was what was being brought to his attention.

The dark smile slid off his face and he sighed, shaking his head and lifting his face to look up at the full moon, wondering faintly if it was the same moon which Sarah looked upon. He couldn't possibly know.

He didn't even know if she even thought about him any longer.

His morose mood grew darker and he wondered if the sweet release of death would free him from this cursed memory. He shook the thought off, reminding himself that he had his responsibilities in this realm, and while taking a header off the balcony might seem like a great idea now, the weeks he'd spend recovering from such a fall were enough to convince him that it wasn't a wise one.

His eyes turned to the horizon, frowning deeply. "What is my instinct trying to tell me," he mused aloud, setting his palms flat and leaning out over his kingdom, as if hoping it would be able to tell him.

Not even a second had passed when it felt like insects had skittered up his back and he shuddered, straightening. A summons, then. How long had it been...better to not think about that, he decided, going into his room and deciding to take his time. He changed into his most intimidating armor, hoping to frighten the measly pest of a human into just handing whomever was wished away-

He stopped. No wishing away, he realized, staring towards the horizon again. He called in a crystal and peered into it, almost dropping it in mute shock. Without another thought, he vanished from where he stood and appeared in the bedroom of Sarah Williams, silently standing behind her, unable to believe – or perhaps too afraid to believe – that this was real.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She didn't really expect anything to happen. After all, thirteen years with no word from him rather had a way of disillusioning one. As the moments ticked by without anything, she began to sag in on herself. No lightening crashing, no windows bursting open with a flash of wings and a splash of glitter. Nothing.

Except she could feel a hand on her slumped shoulder. She went rigid and turned abruptly finding mismatched eyes looking down at her from beneath exotic, dark brows. Those eyes were wide, filled with surprise and wonder. Her breath rushed out of her, and her eyes wandered over his face.

She would almost call his face haggard, deep lines cutting into his face, frown lines between his brows. Yet, as each second passed, he seemed to be recovering his youthful appearance more and more. His hair was still wild, standing up in every direction. He was dressed in that same armor she remembered from her parents' bedroom. The hand on her shoulder slid up, cupped her face. The leather was warm against her skin. "Sarah," he breathed, and it was like he was worshiping the sound.

She nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Her throat was too clogged with emotions. His hands tightened their grip on her and she was pulled against his chest. A rough laugh escaped him and she felt his face against her neck. Her body jumped to attention at the contact. "I'd thought...but that doesn't matter, I'm here now," he murmured against her skin, the feeling of his lips brushing over her neck with each word causing the hairs on her arms to rise.

She shuddered, putting him away from her a bit. "Jareth, this isn't the time-"

His lips worked up her neck, each kiss sending electric shocks through her body. It officially killed her ability to speak. He continued to move, brushing against her ear lobe, her jaw, her cheek, until they finally found her own, silencing any other words that had been on the verge of leaving her. His arms pulled her close, hands flattening against her back. This was familiar to her mind, yet horribly foreign to her body. It didn't stop her from responding. Her hands slid to his chest, gripping the soft silk of his starlit hair.

Six years of dreams, followed by thirteen years of absence. Dreams where he held her and kissed her just like this, the last of which they had let the rampant emotions they felt continue through completion.

Even now, he tasted as he had in those dreams. Like spices and magic and something that she could only call Jareth. She let him part her lips, forgetting everything else for just a moment. Then, when it was almost physically painful to continue kissing him, she broke away, squeezing her eyes shut. "Jareth, you need to stop." Her hands were fists in the velvet sleeves of his shirt, pushing at him gently.

He withdrew, his eyes suddenly confused. Then, they darkened like the sky preparing for a summer storm. The warm man who was grateful to see her had given way to the cool, intimidating Goblin King. He paced away from her and she watched as his armor grew more ominous, and a cape seemed to form out of air. As he continued pacing his hair streaked with an angry dark red. When he turned towards her, he looked as she could never remember seeing him before. He was beyond angry, he was furious. "You called upon the Goblin King."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement and the words were clipped. Well, that was just fine. She could be angry, too. "Trust me, if there'd been any other choice, I wouldn't have," she snapped at him, pacing away and dragging a hand through her hair. "My daughter's missing."

Surprise on his face. "I fail to comprehend the question." His voice was cold, sterile. He stalked towards her. "I have not received any wished away children in more than a year. And if anyone wished away your daughter, I would have recognized a child that was yours." His eyes ran – almost violating – from her head to her toes and back again. It felt like a just-as-violating caress had followed that gaze.

She flushed, obstinately refusing to be intimidated, she stepped towards him. "Not long ago, she was kidnapped. I know the one who took her is one of the fae."

"Why would the fae have any interest in a human child that wasn't wished into their keeping?" Jareth looked completely disinterested in the whole thing.

She ought to tell him, however she didn't figure he'd earned the right to know her suspicion. So she withheld the answer. "How the hell should I know? Do you think he was telling his nefarious plans for my daughter while he took her?" His answer was a snarl of rage. "Stop being such a pissy ass hole!"

He turned towards her, leaning intimidating over her. "I think I have the right to be pissy, you irritating little mortal. For thirteen years I waited for you to tire of that human who you saw fit to marry. I waited until you would need me enough to call upon me." He paced away from her but not before she saw the pain mixed with fury. "I thought you had forgotten about me in your wedded bliss." He whirled back, refusing to look at her. "And when you finally call me, it's for your precious child, not for me."

She swallowed her own bitter pill, looking up at him. She hadn't known that. "I've been divorced for twelve years, Jareth," she said quietly. "And you shouldn't blame me for needing some sort of relationship in this world. I could never see you here, and..." Her own face twisted in pain. It wasn't fair to bring this up, wasn't fair to either of them. "Six years of dreams, nothing more than that. You didn't offer me much."

"I couldn't!" He glared at her in fury. "Don't you think I wanted to? However you..." he snarled, beginning to pace once again. He stopped, half the length of the room away from her and pointed at her chest, his face accusing. "You said the words that shut me out of your life, yet you _dare_ to lash out at me for not being at your side?" He dropped his arm, his eyes boring into hers, and his voice suddenly lacked fire, lacked emotion. It was completely cold. "Damn you, Sarah."

A shudder worked through her, and she felt tears well in her eyes. She had to leave this topic before they both inflicted more wounds upon each other. "I don't know why they took her," she finally whispered. "He seemed...young. Your kind usually looks young, but he seemed like an adolescent on the verge of becoming a man. Black hair, golden eyes. I think his other form was a raven..." She saw dread on his face and met his gaze. "Jareth, what is going on?"

"Sarah, my dear fool, what did you do to catch their attention?" He drug a hand through his hair and sat on the edge of her bed. He rested his head in one hand. "There are several races of fair folk, Sarah. Most of them are classified as Seelie or Unseelie. The classes usually leave each other well enough alone, however, they do fight amongst themselves." He ran a hand through his hair. "As you may have guessed, I'm a member of the Unseelie courts. It comes as a result of my subjects. All fae are notorious for kidnapping human children, sometimes leaving one of ours in its place until it's time for them to come home, still, I'm Unseelie because I play with and manipulate the humans foolish enough to call upon me."

Sarah saw the dim amusement on his face and arched a brow. "You thought me a fool?"

His eyes lifted to hers and there was something else in them. "You were naive, but no, I wouldn't call you a fool." He paused, sighing softly. "The one you described comes from a court which has been trying to cause unrest in my kingdom for quite some time. His line is failing, and his father believes that taking my throne by force would revive it. They live, by grace of the Troll King, in a kingdom which neighbors mine."

She remembered the boy's words, how Erin was necessary for his people's plans. She paced a bit, collecting her thoughts. She turned towards him after a long moment and she swallowed, not sure how to explain the whole thing. "They took Erin to get to you?"

He gave a half-smile. "I'm sure they did not intend to get her. More likely you were their aim. However, time is a fluid thing between the above and Underground. Those who don't have intimate contact with it as I do, often do not realize how fast time passes here. Also, immortals who do not deal often with mortals cannot understand their aging process."

She wasn't so certain.

She swallowed hard, and lifted her gaze. "Regardless of their aim, I have to get her back. Please understand that...she's all I have." He wasn't looking at her, his face turned away. She lifted a hand, touching his arm lightly. "Please, Jareth. I need your help."

His gaze returned to her and there was something else there. Almost pain. "If that is your wish, Precious."

The endearment caused tears to pierce her eyes and she turned away from him for a moment in order to collect herself. It was actually physically painful to hear him call her that after how long they'd been apart. During that magical six years, that little pet name was spoken more than her name.

Making sure she was calm, she turned back finding herself standing on a windswept hill that overlooked the Labyrinth. She swallowed hard, looking at the man who now sat upon a rock, his eyes looking into her own with something she couldn't explain. Because she had to say it, she spoke. "I didn't know how to get you to come to me again, Jareth. I truly didn't."

He gave her a melancholy smile, stepping towards her, his gloved hand cupping her cheek. "Let us find this daughter of yours, darling. We'll talk about anything else later..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

They'd been walking for several hours when his captive finally spoke again.

"I'm tired."

"Not stopping," Kieran responded, continuing to shove the girl along the heavily wooded path. "We need to make up time for you running me in the wrong direction for ten minutes."

"I think we've more than made up for that-"

He shoved her harder. "Shut up and walk," he ordered, his brow furrowing in consternation.

She glanced back, giving him a look that could singe off a man's ball hairs. Her verbal response was equally as acidic. He stared at her for a full minute, trying to unravel the insult, and then gave up. Above grounders were strange, and as a rule, his family tried to not linger in areas where those who came here lived.

He gave her another strong shove for good measure, but he must have put too much strength into it, because she toppled over. However, she didn't swear, didn't curse at him. Instead, she began writhing on the ground. "Knock it off, I'm not going to fall for your pranks."

The writhing grew worse, and he watched her head hit the ground a few times hard enough that she should have cried out. "Shit, _shit_," he muttered, getting to his knees and rolling the girl over. Her eyes were rolled up in her head and she thrashed still. "This is _so _not worth the trouble." He dug through the pouch at his hip and pulled out a bottle with a stopper in it. "Saving a sacrifice, I must be some sort of idiot," he complained, using his teeth to pull the stopper out of it before he dripped the shining blue liquid over her lips. "Have another fit like this and I'm going to let you die."

The girl sputtered a bit, coughing, but the fluid didn't seep from between her lips, so he assumed it went down her throat. She relaxed, her eyes closed.

Now that he was seated, he found that he was actually quite tired as well. He pulled a leather thong from the pack he'd had waiting and made a noose around her ankle and another which he put around his wrist, then set up a fire, both for animal repelling properties and for extra warmth. He took off his tattered cloak and laid it over the girl who was sleeping.

Some small sausages cooked up easily over the fire, and he ate slowly, watching his young charge.

It had taken him by surprise when she'd fought back. This girl was no simple wilting violet. She had a defiant nature that almost made him smile. That didn't change his annoyance with the fact that she'd nearly kicked his balls into the next province or his equal frustration that because of this little fit, she'd set them back even more.

He sighed, leaning back against a log and pillowing his hands under his head. "Father is going to kill me," he muttered, closing his eyes for just a moment.

He woke to the feeling of his shoulder being jerked nearly out of its socket, and he quickly twisted his hand around his end of the thong and gave it a jerk, sending the girl spilling to the ground. He continued to pull it towards him until he could put a hand upon the girl's ankle. "So not cute," he grumbled, trying to acclimate himself to the sudden waking.

Obviously, she'd tried to run from him while he was asleep, however had failed to notice the tether he'd fastened her with. Her fingers, now covered with dirt from clawing at the ground to get away, were tearing at the noose around her ankle fruitlessly. "If you don't stop that, you'll just make your fingers bleed."

Finally, he was able to focus and found that dawn was just kissing the sky. He turned towards the girl and got the first look at her without darkness or distance hiding her features. He was surprised to find that his verbal assessment of her behavior did not include her appearance. Her face still had the softness of youth, but it was slightly awkward, since it was trying to become the face of a woman while still having that softness. There was a crop of freckles that curled over the bridge of her nose and her cheekbones. Her hair, wild from her fit last night, and having twigs and leaves stuck in it as well, was honey blond at the root and platinum at the tips. 

Most startling, however, were her eyes.

She had the eyes of a fae. One was startling ocean blue, the other was moss green, and they were large, innocent.

He allowed himself to admit in silence that she was going to be quite devastating if she grew into that face.

Besides that, her face was smudged with dirt, likely from her abrupt fall to the ground. He gave her a harsh smile and displayed his wrist, where he'd tied off the 'leash'. "Wouldn't do to have the prize wandering off and getting herself killed."

She spat in his face and swore with quite the intense vocabulary for someone at such a tender age. Once her ranting settled a little bit, he stoked the fire and set a few more sausages in it to cook. He mostly ignored her, although his mind kept drifting back to what had happened when he'd been forced to stop the evening before.

The girl herself grew a bit quiet, frowning deeply. "What happened last night?"

He blinked, shocked at the non-threatening question. His eyes shifted towards her and he saw her pulling up blades of grass and smoothing them between her hands. He sighed, deciding that answering her wouldn't kill him. "You had some sort of fit. Started having a spasm, and lost consciousness." He shrugged when she looked towards him. "I gave you a tonic and you settled down, and I wasn't carrying you all the way by myself. You're heavier than you look," he said the last bit to spite her, to insight her anger.

However, she took on a pondering expression. It was a little troubled, yet at the same time relieved. "Then I suppose you saved me," she said calmly. "I don't suppose a fae would have much knowledge of human medical conditions..." She lifted her face and looked at him. "I'm diabetic. It's something I was born with. Something about my body absorbs sugar too fast or something, and if I don't eat pretty often I'll pass out."

He eyed her, frowning.

"I always usually have some kind of snack on me, but I didn't really have time to grab one last night." She gave him a faint grin. "Looks like your target is troublesome. That's what you're thinking, right?"

He didn't want to admit that, but it was true. To avoid answering that question, he dug through his pouch. "It's probably due to your mixed lineage. Fae can only really eat things like cake and sweet cream from the above. I suppose you can eat more variety, but it would explain your...condition. He found what he was looking for, pulling out the vial of glowing blue liquid. "I used this on you last night. If you notice yourself feeling tired or getting light headed, take a _very small_ sip. It tastes like candy, so it's easy to try to drink too much, but if I see you take too much, I'll punch you in the stomach until you puke."

She took it, glaring at him again. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be nice," she chastised.

He leaned towards her, his eyes narrowing. "I wasn't the one who violently kicked the other in an extremely sensitive place that girls your age shouldn't even know about," he hissed, darkly.

Her lips curled into a wickedly sharp smirk. "I know plenty of ways to cause physical pain, sir," she said, amused. "That's just one of them. And it was all I could reach." She turned her attention to the food and nibbled a sausage quietly for a long moment. "What's your name," she finally asked, turning her eyes towards him.

He blinked in surprise. "What does that matter?"

She frowned faintly. "Because, you're the only one here to talk to, so I figured if we're going to do that, we might as well be polite and properly introduce ourselves. You already know my name, but I don't know yours yet." She seemed to sense his reluctance, because her frown deepened. "And if you wont tell me, I'll have to come up with some irritating nickname like 'Bird boy' or 'fancy pants'."

He stared at her for several moments before a reluctant chuckle left his lips. He smothered it behind a hand, his shoulders shaking. Finally, he returned his gaze to her, his expression settling towards one of exasperation. "You're the most irritating chit I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."

"You mean kidnapping," she smiled, though, her eyes obviously seeing his amusement. "I would hardly say we 'met' the traditional way."

"Believe me when I say that kidnapping is not top on my list of things to do..." he glanced away, sighing quietly. "My name is Kieran. I'm the heir to a very small kingdom that borders the Goblin Kingdom. I'm the son of King Bram, who was once a very powerful, respected Unseelie king."

She looked him up and down and he arched a brow at the scrutiny. "Why is a prince kidnapping a neighboring king's half mortal daughter? And how do you even know that he's my father?"

"Instinct, I suppose. You...have the look of your father." He gave her a wry look. "You also have a bit of his attitude. Royal fae blood also has a particular smell." There was a hunger in her eyes and he slanted her a curious look. "You're looking at me strangely."

She leaned close to him. "You know my father." It was a statement. "Can I see him? Is that why you took me? Are you taking me to him?"

He was taken aback. The desire to meet the man who sired her was startlingly intense. He looked away from her, shaking his head. "No, princess, that's not why I took you from your home. I am no friend of your father's. Quite the opposite. You'll be the key to bringing your father to his knees."

She was still looking at him when he met her gaze once again. Her eyes – those unnerving, fae eyes – seemed to stare through him. She didn't speak, didn't condemn him, didn't accuse him. She wasn't trying to claw his eyes out, which considering her temper and how she'd kicked him in his privates was a definite risk. When she finally spoke, it was quite. "My mother tells me that my father doesn't even know that he has a daughter. If that's true, I don't see how anyone else would. We haven't had anything to do with this realm. So why did you take me?"

He was getting tired of the questions, as well as how the girl seemed just a little too savvy for a mortal of barely a decade. "My father sent me to kidnap Sarah Williams, who is said to have taken the Goblin King's power. When I arrived and discovered you, a possible daughter, I thought that you'd make a better choice. The Goblin King would sacrifice his kingdom to keep his heir safe."

She huffed. "You didn't think that this might piss off the Labyrinth's Champion? You knew she was my mother."

"Things such as that mattered little to me." He finished his breakfast and began scooping sand onto the fire. He gave her a brief once over and then huffed a sigh. "We're going to have to find you some suitable traveling clothes..."

She gave him a speculative look. "I don't suppose you have a needle and thread do you?"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah watched Jareth kneel to the ground near the edge of the Labyrinth and touch the dirt, lifting a bit between his fingers, giving it a sniff and then he dabbed his finger in it, then touched his tongue. She would have cringed, but he straightened, turning towards her. "There's the odor of magic in this area. We're very close to a portal, which is likely the one that our brave young man used to spirit away your daughter."

_Our_ daughter, she wanted to say, but there was no point in telling him. Once this was over, she was certain he wanted her out of her life as quickly as possible. She just didn't know how to explain her appearance once they found Erin. Now that she was once again faced with the man, she found that it would be impossible for him not to recognize the resemblance. However they'd never had physical contact, and while he knew of their shared dreams, that didn't mean he would believe in immaculate conception. "Then we can track him?"

"Of course I can track him," Jareth grumbled, giving her a faint glare. "Just who do you think you're talking to?"

"His royal highness, who happens to be an arrogant pain in the ass?" It was muttered under her breath, but he must have heard her because he shot her a sharper glare. She stuck her tongue out in a childish manner, pulling it back in when he snapped his teeth at her. She stared at him, startled.

"Put that away unless you're prepared to use it."

Blood pooled in her cheeks and she sputtered, shocked that he'd even said that. "Prick," she muttered as she shot him a harsh glare of her own, before glancing around. They were on the edge of a forest, and the sun was starting to lighten the sky to purples and pinks. "So you think I was their target?"

He hummed in agreement, heading towards the treeline. "The girl who conquered the Labyrinth, who declared that the king of it had no power over her. I'm certain that Bram thought you would be able to give him that power somehow. He's a fool who doesn't know a thing about the situation, but thought a kidnapping would incite a war that he could win."

"Why would anyone _want_ to go to war?" Sarah frowned deeply, confused by the idea of it. "I mean, people you care for might die, and there's really no guarantee that you'll win at the end."

"Indeed, and I thought after the last time we fought, he'd have learned his lesson. In that battle, he lost five of his six sons and his mistress, although I did not realize there was a woman on the field at the time." Jareth turned towards her, his face solemn. "She was a brilliant fighter, one of the best on the field that day, and she died protecting the King's sixth son, who I presume was also her own. I struck her down not knowing, I was so deep in a battle rage."

Sarah shuddered. "So the boy has reason to hate you," she said quietly.

"Indeed, I suppose so. It has been so long since I've heard from that kingdom that I'd assumed that Bram had finally settled on the terms that Oberon had set, but it appears I was wrong." Jareth shook his head. "The man has grown to be a greater fool in the past decades."

She followed Jareth as he walked through the first trees, then she shuddered, concern tickling her. "Damn, I hope Erin knows enough to tell that boy of her condition..." She rubbed her arms roughly, feeling slightly chilled in the damp morning air. Then again, it might just be her worry that caused the shivers that wracked her frame.

Something heavy was dropped on her shoulders and she blinked, finding Jareth had draped the cloak around her. He didn't linger in touching her, simply set it about her and then continued to move forward as if nothing had happened, or as if he didn't even realize he'd done it. She swallowed hard, stilling when Jareth paused, turning towards her. "Condition?"

Sarah pulled the cloak tighter around herself, unable to look in his piercing gaze. "Erin is diabetic. If she doesn't eat small meals frequently, she can go into convulsions or a diabetic coma. If that happens, she can die."

There was something melancholy in his gaze. "Does she look like you?"

She swallowed, looking up into his face. He tried very hard to hide the emotions in his eyes, but they were so strong that there was still a hint of sadness, of loneliness. "Not especially. She had my nose, my chin, my freckles. She has her father's hair, and his cheekbones." It was as much as she could say without telling too much.

He was quiet for a long moment and then offered her his hand, but she couldn't be sure if he was offering it to her as a guide or as a man. Tentatively, she rested her own upon his, seeing relief so intense in his gaze it was palpable.

As a man, then.

She wrapped her fingers around his own, letting him lead her further into the forest, and hopefully, closer to finding her daughter and the young fool who'd seen fit to kidnap her little girl.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.


	4. Chapter 3

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Three

Her kidnapper, who supposedly was a fae prince who called himself Kieran, did _not _have a needle or thread…or scissors. In fact, it seemed to her that he had nothing useful in that pouch of his besides that potion, which she now carried precariously in the loose pocket of her pajama shorts. She'd managed to talk him into loaning her one of his shirts, as well as a vest, however, she was still barefoot and rather filthy.

Shortly after breakfast, they'd begun trudging through the forest again, although he was moving quicker than she was strictly happy with. She didn't comment eying him with a pursed frown on her lips. "Would it kill you to slow down a little?"

"Until we're out of the Goblin King's territory, we're going to keep up this pace." He didn't so much as glance back at her.

She examined him, her frown deepening. "You're afraid of him?"

He didn't answer, and she scooted up beside him, looking up at his face. He had a look about him that told her he was being stubborn and it made her want to laugh a bit. Who would have thought? He actually had a cute side to his personality. Then again, maybe it was a little sadistic of her to consider this stubborn, pouty side to be 'cute'. She certainly wasn't going to say that out loud. As it was, he was giving her one of those speculative looks from the corner of his eyes; like he was trying to read her thoughts or something.

She gave him an impudent smile, and cocked her head to the side. She was challenging him and she knew it. She found as she grew up that it was impossible not to challenge people. The only one she didn't seek to cause distress was her mother, and that's because the older woman was quite distressed as it was. "You look worried," came the voice of the man beside her.

She blinked, noticing that he was no longer looking at her, his gaze was once more on the path before them. She inclined her head and frowned a bit. "My mother is probably very..." she floundered for a word to describe how her mother likely felt. Upset was too weak, distressed wasn't right either. "Pissed off."

He frowned deeply, glancing back at her. "Your language is inappropriate for a girl your age."

"Stop living in the stone age," she snapped, stomping ahead of him on the path. She indignantly tossed her hair over her shoulder as she went. Her foot caught something in the ground and whatever it was cut across her ankle. "Ouch, son of a -"

"DUCK!"

Two arms caught her and she fell backwards just in time to see a deadly looking metal ball that was covered in spikes swing out of the trees, right where her head had been moments before. She stared at it as it swung back, completing the pendulum motion, her blood rushing from her face, leaving a cold tingle in its wake. A gloved hand slipped over her eyes, hiding her face as the swooshing sound of the trap came rushing past her head once again.

"There are reasons that when traveling, the women are well protected. In this forest there are worse things than fieries, and they'll take advantage of young ladies, regardless of their age. Minotaur are especially fond of virgins, and I've seen the remains that are left." The voice in her ear was chastising, irritated, and harsh. However, the hand was very gentle. "There are also thieves and bandits. So do yourself a favor and stick close, else you run afoul another one of these traps."

She shuddered, nodded, and let the fae help her to her feet. Her keen eyes caught sight of a tear on his sleeve, and noted it looked slightly damp. She reached towards it, but her kidnapper withdrew as though her touch was poison. She blinked in surprise and saw his face was tight with pain and it seemed to have grown a little pale. She put her most irritated expression on her face and grabbed the thong he still had around her ankle and his wrist and used it to pull him over.

He fought against her, but he didn't appear to be struggling very hard.

"Let me see it," she grumbled, gripping his arm and turning it in her hand. She pried the tear in the shirt open and stared at the long, thin scratch that seemed to be bleeding rather badly for such a mild wound. She frowned at it slightly, and took the edge of her pajama top, which had been tied around her waist, and tore a long strip from it.

Her kidnapper had gone quiet, and was still rather pale. She wrapped the strip around his arm a few times, tying the knot over the wound. When it was done, she released him and waited. He was quiet for a long moment, examining the make-shift wrap that she'd put on him. "I figure that you probably don't have a proper first aid kit either, so when we get to town, you should get one," she said frowning at him.

He didn't say anything, but he moved forward, his eyes once again going to the path. Frowning, she fell into step behind him, her eyes going towards where she'd bandaged his arm. It was really starting to bother her that even though he'd kidnapped her, he kept protecting her. His hand had covered her eyes so she wouldn't be frightened or have her face possibly injured by the trap, and he was injured himself as a result. He'd snatched her from her bed, but he'd saved her life twice now. He'd grumbled a lot about it, threatened to not help her again, but even so.

"You don't seem to have the temperament to kidnap someone," she said finally, walking faster so that she was at his side. "I think you might actually be too nice for it."

He glared at her. "I'm not 'nice'." His voice was cool as he stated that.

She gave a shrug and looked up at him, meeting his glare with her own measuring look. "No, you're not nice; you're rude and sort of irritating, and far too cranky. But you're not cruel. That's what I meant. I kicked you in the balls, but when I had my fit, you saved me. Again back there. You loaned me a spare shirt and vest, even though you could have left me in my pajama."

She examined him more closely. Was he...blushing?

"Don't be stupid." The grumbled words were low and he averted his face from hers, as if trying to hide. A smile turned up her lips, but she hid it. He was rude and irritating, but he really was almost cute.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah was getting tired. Jareth could tell by the way she was carrying herself, her shoulders hunched, her feet shuffling where earlier her steps had been evenly measured. Her hands held his cloak closed around her shoulders, yet she shivered.

The girl he'd known had been stubborn and just looking at the woman she'd become, he knew that hadn't changed. She wouldn't ask to stop, wouldn't wish to appear inferior or weaker. Which meant he was going to be drawing the line and refusing to let her shift it. "We're stopping for awhile." Jareth set the pack his goblins had brought him down on the ground, and starting to scrounge for dry timber to use for a fire.

"We can't afford to stop; the kidnapper has a head start-"

Jareth turned his gaze to her. "What good will you be if you collapse from exhaustion at a critical moment? It's better for everyone involved if we sit down for an hour and rest ourselves. Besides, I'm tired." He said the last part just as she opened her mouth to object again. "I had a startlingly poor night's sleep last eve, and I need a break." He gestured towards the bag. "There will be some fairy cakes and such in there, if you're hungry."

"I can't eat the food of the fae, or I'll be trapped here," her jaw got that admirably stubborn set to it and he arched a brow, smirking.

"A bit late to be worried about that, isn't it? What with the enchanted peach nineteen years ago?" He couldn't help but smirk at her when she glared up at him and snatched the bag off the ground, rummaging through it. "I'm glad you aren't putting up too much of a fight."

She looked like she wanted to razz him, but she must have thought better of it. She pulled out a carefully wrapped cake out of the bag, nibbling the edge. "So if I already broke that rule, how was I able to go home?"

"Rule," he scoffed, setting the kindling in a pile and snapping a finger at it, pleased when it happily burst into flames, causing the girl to jump as though startled. "My dear silly girl, how is that a rule? It's simply a story made up by the human realms."

Her jaw dropped and she stared at him, dumbstruck. "_What_?"

His head rocked back and he laughed, flopping down beside her and looking at her, amused by her shock. "Sarah, stories always hold a grain of truth, it's just not always the part that everyone expects to be truth. Things are said like the 'touch' of iron is fatal to us. It really depends on how hard we're touched with it, and whether or not it enters the bloodstream."

"You mean everything in those stories is false?" She looked like she got whacked upside her head, which he found both amusing and endearing. It must be difficult to have the carpet pulled from beneath her feet at her age.

"Not everything. There's always a grain of truth. Fae do tend to kidnap children, often leaving our own in the child's place. We don't use them for slavery or any such nonsense, we liberate them from homes where they are unloved, putting in its place a more resilient fae child. We also have an affinity for sweet foods, for no reason I can understand."

Sarah gave a soft chuckle, as if something suddenly made sense to her and she set her chin on her knees. The cloak was pulled around her knees as well as she hugged them. "You'd get along well with Erin, then. She can't stay away from cake and cookies and such. She eats it constantly and is still skinny as a wraith, and yet I eat a few too many and I gain an inch at the hips."

Jareth eyed her, his lips pulling into a faint smirk. "From where I'm sitting, Sarah, it's hardly a bad thing..." Her eyes snapped to his and he proceeded to undress her with his eyes, sweeping them up and down her slowly, getting the desired response. Her cheeks flared and her jaw dropped just a bit.

"I can't believe this, even now you're a sexual harassment case waiting to happen!" She pulled the cloak tighter around herself as if to ward off the gaze.

"Ah, but it took your mind off what was making you sad, so how is that a bad thing?" Her face grew startled, and then pensive, and then she turned her face from his own. He felt a twist in his chest that he refused to relate to that hollow place his heart had once been. He closed his eyes, holding out a hand to her. "I'll take half. If you eat the whole thing, you'll be bouncing off the walls up into the clouds."

He could see her resisting, but in the end, she broke the cake in half and passed part of it to him. He leaned back and bit into it, staring up at the blue sky. He wasn't certain how to broach what was bothering him, but he knew they had to discuss it eventually. "You hate me, don't you?"

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her head whip towards him and read shock on her face. "What?"

He returned his gaze to the sky, pillowing his head atop one hand. "You can't stand to look me in the eyes, you insult and taunt me at every turn, and you seem rather set on getting this done followed promptly by getting away from me." He couldn't deny the bitterness in his voice. "I'd go as far as to say that if you'd had any other way of getting to the Underground you'd have never called upon me."

She was quiet for a long moment. "I...don't hate you," she said, her voice quiet, almost emotionless. "I'm just...feeling a little unsteady at the moment."

"You and me both, my dear." He huffed, glancing at her once again. He was surprised at the sudden pain in her eyes. "Sarah-"

She shook her head, finished the last of her cake and stood, removing the cloak. "Thanks for the loan. I'm feeling much better."

She says as she stands there shivering to pieces, he thought, but he didn't call her on it. He stood, accepting the cloak and waved his hand at the fire, letting it die down to embers. "Then let's move on. We shouldn't stay stationary for long. The more ground we cover, the faster we shorten the distance between ourselves and our target."

He headed in the direction they needed to move once again and noticed Sarah lagging behind a bit. He turned towards her, seeing pain bordering on agony in her expression and he had to fight to keep from going towards her and drawing her into his arms. As he fastened his cape once more around his shoulders, he couldn't help but notice how her scent lingered upon it and he closed his eyes, breathing the scent of her deeply as he could.

Without word, without comment, they began walking forward once again.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Erin was starting to feel dizzy. The heat under the trees was too high, and she hadn't eaten since the sausage that morning. Her body was fiercely craving something sweet. Cake, cookies. A doughnut. Chocolate glazed, maybe with some sprinkles on it. And an iced mocha. Sweet and cold and delicious-

"Hey, you're listing again!"

Erin snapped out of her daydream as the tether around her ankle was jerked sharply and she went down on her tailbone. Her eyes instantly focused on the slash of white that was on his arm, the only white on him. Her vision blurred, focused again, and she lifted her gaze, looking at the so-called fae prince leaning over her. Her butt hurt.

A cool hand touched her head lightly and she wobbled a little bit. There was almost concern in his voice when he spoke again. "Do you need rest?"

"I need sugar..." she squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her face against her knees. She was shivering. There was a soft sigh and she felt a hand groping into her pocket. Ah, the vial. She felt glass against her lips and a drop fell against her lips. A sigh escaped as the drop hit her tongue. He was right, it tasted like candy. Yet at the same time, it was like honey, or sweet berries. Something pure, not chemical.

She wanted more of that, she noticed, but as she reached for the vial, it was pulled away. Sullenly, she opened her eyes to glare at him. He replaced the stopper, stuffing it back into his pouch and examining her eyes with an intensity that caused her only the mildest discomfort. "I did tell you to just take a sip."

She was still shivering hard enough that she couldn't tell him where to stuff his attitude. She wanted to swear at him with considerable force, but she could only manage a feeble "push off" before she felt a heavy weight on her shoulders, and she focused on him once again. She continued to stare at him, noticing that his eyes were actually rather pretty. They weren't very large; however they were shaped like almonds, with a deep crease above and long, thick black lashes. The startling golden amber wasn't a human color for eyes to be at all, but framed as they were with the thick dark fringe, she found that they suited him. He was golden. His eyes, his skin.

After a moment, those eyes changed from intense to something else she didn't know or understand and his gaze averted. "We'll rest for a bit. I'll see if I can find some berries or something."

She reached out, grabbing his shirt in her hand. He stilled, looking at her hand then at her face, confused. She gave him a faintly smug smile. "I told you that you were nice."

His response was creative, but physically impossible. Still, it drew a soft giggle from her and she released him, watching him walk away from her.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"Nice," he muttered, brushing back the overhanging leaves of a berry bush. "The kid I kidnapped thinks that I'm nice." He was grumbling, although Kieran wasn't certain what about. It seemed to him that she thrived on irritating, and wanted to do it to the best of her ability. He wasn't _trying_ to be nice. He was only watching after her to make sure that she got to his father's kingship in one piece.

One foul-mouthed, annoying, childish piece. It had unnerved him more than he wanted to admit that moment when her oddly large two-toned eyes locked with his own gold pair and he'd had the unsteady sensation of drowning. One blue as the deep ocean, the other the same green as the moss which hung from the trees.

He didn't think he liked the knowledge that she saw something in him that he didn't see himself, or perhaps couldn't see himself. He didn't know why she saw it. He was nearly an adult, almost a century older than her. Even by mortal standards, she was nothing more than a child. She'd only known him a few hours at best, and she hadn't exactly seen him at his best. Then again, when he was in a situation he couldn't really find a way out of he tended to get a little cranky.

He knew what his father's plan had been. To sacrifice the champion of the Labyrinth, and then eat her heart, inheriting the powers that the mortal had stolen from the Goblin King, rendering Bram able to conquer that kingdom, followed by the realm. He frowned at the thought of the child that was currently keeping him company getting sacrificed in the same manner.

He shook the thoughts away. It was too early to worry about that as of yet. First he had to keep her alive long enough to get her out of the enemy kingdom.

He found some berries, as well as several small, ripe peaches. For whatever reason, peaches grew in droves in the Goblin Kingdom, and the fragrance was almost overpowering. It was the only kingdom in the Underground that grew the sweet fruit. Most other fae preferred the sweetness of ripe berries or cakes to the taste of tree fruits, but rumor was that the king favored them.

He returned to where the girl was sitting, still huddled within his cloak, which made her look small and somehow frail. Her hands were pulled into the sleeves of his shirt, and she was looking at something on the ground with deep curiosity. At first he thought she'd gotten herself into trouble once again, but he leaned forward to see what she was looking at and saw a crystal laying there, a perfect sphere.

It was the calling sign of the Goblin King.

Kieran snarled, lifting a foot and preparing to stomp on it. Seconds before he was bringing his foot down, she grabbed the crystal and held it close to her chest, a strange look in her eyes.

"Don't." It wasn't a command exactly, but there was a sort of pleading desperation in her voice. "I...can see my mom." Those mismatched eyes that he couldn't decide if he liked or loathed lifted and looked at him, that need echoed in them. "Please."

The request was quiet, and he knew in that instant he could prove her wrong. He could snatch it away from her and shatter it, and she couldn't stop him. He knew that she knew it as well. Yet there was no doubt in her eyes that he would give her this. He tore his gaze away from hers. "Where did the cursed thing come from?"

She shook her head. "I wanted to know how mom was doing, I wanted to see that she was alright." She gave a small, brave smile. "When I'm not there, I worry that she'll do something stupid. Like get back together with that prat Alex." She curled her hand protectively around it. "When I looked down, this was in my hand, and I was so startled that I dropped it. That's when I saw mom..."

He frowned faintly. She'd only been in the Underground a few hours yet it seemed that she was developing fae powers. He wasn't entirely certain that was a good thing or a bad thing. "Put the damnable thing where I can't see it," he finally said, not wanting to examine his actions too closely, lest something that was a great mystery to himself be revealed. He wasn't sure he could handle whatever his stubbornness was keeping hidden. After another moment, he turned and found that it was no longer in sight, and he set the fruits down before her. "Eat quickly and bring the rest with you."

She lifted a peach, biting into it, hesitating, and then biting it again. It seemed as if the peach unnerved her a little, but after that first bite, when nothing happened, she began eating it with relish. Amusement made him chuckle a bit and he couldn't help but watch her as he grazed on a few of the blackberries. "You're certainly your father's daughter," he commented, shaking his head. "He's the only fae I've ever heard that likes tree fruits, especially peaches. They say he's favored them for years, but no one really knows why."

She stared down at the peach in her hand for a long moment, and then smiled a bit, as though amused and sat at the same time. "Maybe they're his favorite weapon. When my mother ran the Labyrinth, he sent her an enchanted peach that made her forget her mission...for a little while." She finished the peach and tossed the pit away. "Mom never did really tell me what she dreamed at that time."

"It's not unheard of," Kieran stood dusting off his pants and watching the girl collect the remaining fruit and hold it in his shirt. He winced, knowing that the pale linen would be stained with pink and purple from the berries. He made a mental note to purchase some manner of bag for her as well as some clothing suitable for a young girl.

"What's not unheard of?" He glanced towards her and found her jogging to keep up with him. He huffed a sigh and checked his stride so that he wasn't dragging her by the ankle the whole way.

"Do you want to know where the humans got the idea that food of this realm made it impossible to return to the other?" A nice safe topic, this one. Or so he hoped.

Her eyes brightened. "A story?"

"Not exactly, more like the facts that made the story." He slipped his arms behind his neck, rubbing it. He wasn't unused to sleeping in the dirt instead of a bed. He tended to make it a habit in order to avoid being at court, where his status was thrust in his face. Maybe he was getting too old for it, however. "Feeding a mortal food from here doesn't trap them anymore than loaning them clothing or giving them some sort of care. If that canon were true, we'd be just as trapped by eating the food of your realm, and we're rather fond of sweet cakes."

She blinked, looking up at him. "Like 'Little Debbies'?"

He chuckled. "Yes, just so, although when the myths were first created, they were homemade oatmeal cookies with sweetened whipped cream in the center. Anyways, it wasn't the food that trapped them. When a mortal loses their memories of their own realm, they find themselves unable to return. Eventually, some would regain their memories, and then flee to their homelands, not realizing that it had been hundreds of years. When that happened, the mortal would age and die on the spot."

"That's so sad," she said softly. "If the fae know that in returning home they'll die, why do they let them go?"

He looked towards her. "Because we're arrogant, and we believe that if the mortal really wanted us, they wouldn't make us beg." He shrugged and continued. "The food only suppressed the memories, as long as the mortal ate it every day. The finishing touches were usually intimate contact, because that myth is very true. Now and then, a mortal regains its memories despite everything and decides to stay, and only then is intimate contact allowed. It would do a fae no good to have his or her mate regain their memories and try to leave. It will kill the human and the fae would be desolate for the rest of its long life. Those who have such happen to them become the bean sidhe."

"Bean sidhe?"

"Death's washwomen, or Fisher kings." He shrugged. "It's not a pretty sight, so it was made into law that only after a human decided to stay among the fae, would such contact be allowed..." he paused, looking towards her, as though suddenly confused. "How you came into being is beyond me."

She blinked, looking at him in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You're the daughter of a fae and a mortal, kid. By all rights, when your mother left, it should have killed her and you, and your father would be wandering the rivers, out of his mind with grief, warning others of the deaths of those they loved."

"That is odd," Erin agreed, and Kieran looked at her, his jaw sagging in shock at how matter of fact she was taking it. He collected himself and found a faint smile forming on his lips as he looked down at the girl he escorted to his kingdom and felt a curious itch in his throat.

"Odd indeed," he choked out, then regained control of himself. That itchy feeling was growing more and more common, and he'd begun to recognize it as the feeling of laughter trying to crawl its way out of himself. "The only way it would make sense to me is if your mother were not really your mother, but the mortal charged with raising a fae child in the human realm."

Erin gave him a look of half-amusement. "You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the birthing tape."

"The what?"

She stopped, looking up at him and he saw the beginnings of a smile forming on her full lips. "My mother's husband at the time had a video recorder, something that copies events in motion and puts them on film to be watched later. He was pointing it at me as I came out." She paused and there was a dark look on her face. "That was before he left her."

He stared down at her in surprise. "Your mother married a mortal? The woman that brought a fae king to his knees married a mere mortal?"

"Father...couldn't be there. She never really explained why, but I think I know why now." She lifted her face, staring off into the trees as she walked. "'You have no power over me,' she said, and he couldn't reach her. Even after she had me. He's never held me, never seen my face."

Kieran frowned faintly, and then looked away. "Come on, kid. Let's cover some more ground before we have to stop and feed you again," he grumbled down at her. He continued walking in silence, glancing down at her from time to time, seeing the faint melancholy around her that seemed far too deep for one so young. And for the first time, he really wondered if he was doing the right thing.


	5. Chapter 4

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Four

Sarah watched Jareth move around the large, spiked ball that was suspended by a complicated mechanism and shivered. "What the hell is up with this forest? This is the third booby trap we've seen."

Jareth sighed and shrugged. "The rouges of my kingdom don't live in the city. They live in the forests or the mountains, and they protect their territory fiercely. Whoever ran afoul of this one was being surprisingly careless. Especially since they avoided all the ones before this."

Sarah shivered and moved towards it as well. "Jareth, I think that's blood."

"It is," he agreed, running his fingers over the still damp spike. "It's on the ground as well, and still damp." He shook his head. "Young fool..."

Sarah swallowed hard, hoping that she wasn't looking at her daughter's blood. "Erin," she whispered, closing her eyes and averting her face from the trap.

"It's not hers," the Goblin King spoke with a confidence that surprised her and she looked at him again, finding his eyes upon her. He gave her a comforting smile before continuing. "This is the blood of a male fae royal. Even if it's mixed."

She stared at him, dumbstruck. "You can tell?"

"Anyone can tell. It's the scent that we develop after puberty. Males and females, royal or commoner. It's not too bad if it's still within the body, but it can get a little...confusing if there's a lot from various sources on the ground," Jareth frowned, glancing away. "Battlefields are especially difficult. That is typically why only one fae leads a troop of non-fae soldiers into battle. Trolls, goblins, gnomes and the like." She must have looked surprised because he chuckled at her. "How do you think I've been tracking them? His scent is quite strong in the air."

"And a mortal? Can you smell a mortal as well?" She wrung her hands out nervously.

His eyes sharpened upon her. They ran from her head to her toes and back, ending at her eyes where he stared for a long moment. "It's best if I don't answer such a question right now. It will lead to others and I'm ill equipped to deal with that at this time." He sighed, averting his gaze. "Regardless, the scent of a fae will drown out the scent of a mortal, so they're easier to track with his own scent, rather than hers would be." He gave her a funny look, almost cold, as if waiting for...something.

She nodded slightly and took a deep breath. "We should move on."

He seemed to agree. "We need to get at least one mile away from here before we stop for the evening. We've been on our feet for almost twenty hours with very few breaks. I'm sure you're tired." His eyes softened. "Perhaps we may have a civil conversation about the paths our lives have taken."

She swallowed hard, forcing a brave smile on her face. He extended his hand as an escort would to a fine lady, rather than a king to a simple mortal woman, and she set her hand upon his own, hoping he didn't notice how her own trembled with her nerves. His fingers closed around her own and she lifted her face to look at him as he began to turn away. His lips had a melancholy smile upon them before he was where she could no longer see him and he tugged her deeper into the forest.

They continued on, and Sarah found the adrenaline that had been pushing her thus far was beginning to wear off. Her steps were staggering, and she found herself holding harder onto the gloved hand that offered strength and security. She wasn't aware of how long they walked when she felt the man stop, and suddenly she was lifted off the ground and her shivering stopped almost immediately. She wanted to object, but she wasn't sure why. The fact of the matter was he hadn't abandoned her. If anything, she'd abandoned him. Maybe that was why she was so hostile towards him. She didn't really want him to forgive her.

She didn't want him to forgive her for hurting him twice in a decade.

There was also the fact that Erin was his daughter and she'd never called upon him, never gave him the slightest hint. Even since they'd been brought back together by a strange twist in her fate, she'd not told him the girl they were looking for was his child. Sooner, rather than later, she'd have to.

For now, however, she accepted the comfort of the arms which held her and turned her face into his neck, a shuddering breath leaving her.

He seemed to still a bit, and yet he walked in silence for awhile before he spoke. "You're not fighting me," he said softly.

She opened an eye, peering up at his mouth, which was pulling into the faintest smile. "Would you prefer I did?"

His lips were suddenly out of her line of sight, and pressed softly against her forehead. "No, darling, I much prefer how things are at present. Perhaps not all of it, but this situation is quite pleasant."

Understatement of the year, highness, she thought, closing her eyes and letting one of her arms come up to embrace his shoulders. He held her as if she were precious to him, as if she were something delicate and fragile. Something that he wanted to protect.

She liked that. A lot.

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep, dreaming of another time, when she'd met the man on equal footing, in other dreams, where she'd fallen for the cunning, flirtatious monarch. Dreams where she'd felt his touch and his kisses as though they were more than just dreams. A dream where he'd held her and lay with her, loved her like a lover only once.

She was awoken by the feeling of being lain upon some soft moss-covered ground, and she would have sat up, but gloved hands held her down gently. She allowed him to cover her with his cloak, which smelled heavily of his spicy scent and was still warm from his heat. "Jareth," she breathed, settling back into her dreams.

He didn't respond, but she felt his hand smooth her hair away from her face before he left her side. It frightened her a bit, and her eyes snapped open, making sure he didn't suddenly vanish. She was exhausted, having not slept well the evening before, but she couldn't find sleep now that he was no longer close. So she watched as he moved around, gathering wood for a fire, as well as picking up a few things that he found near ground level. When he returned, he started another fire with a snap of his fingers, and then sat a foot away from her, pulling the things from the pouch at his hip. She was surprised to find them to be mushrooms.

"They're edible, and non-hallucinogenic. There are likely peach trees nearby, but this part of the forest is dangerous, and there are things which would take advantage of an exhausted woman." She found the reassurance endearing and she watched as he pulled his bag before him, digging through until he withdrew a few things that looked like dried meat.

She was silent, simply observing him as he prepared dinner for them. When he handed her a stick with mushroom and meat staggered upon it, she accepted it and nibbled it silently. It was a little bland, but not bad, and she was hungry again. She hadn't even noticed in her worry for her daughter and her uneasiness around the Goblin King.

He stayed about a foot away from her, staring into the fire as he ate his own food, a melancholy look on his regal face.

She wasn't certain what made her do it, but she sat up, wrapping the cloak around her more tightly.

His eyes focused upon her, and he blinked. "Sarah, you should rest, lay back-"

She didn't stop until she was at his side, and she lay her head upon his shoulder, staring into the fire as well. "Shut up, Jareth," she said softly. The man at her side sat rigid with surprise, before he relaxed, and his arm slipped around her shoulders, holding her at his side. She continued to eat until she felt that it was too much effort to lift the food to her mouth, and she passed the rest to him.

"There is no cause for you to be this tired, precious," he said softly against her hair.

"Woke up an hour before Erin was taken," her voice was slurred in her exhaustion, and she snuggled into his side. "Was awhile longer before I called you; I had to get dressed. Was awhile longer still before you got there. Haven't slept in," her speech was interrupted by a yawn. "Probably twenty four hours or so. It's been awhile since I walked so much on so little sleep..."

"Has it?"

"About nineteen years," she admitted, lifting her eyes to look at him. There was that pain on his face again, and he started to turn away from her. She caught his face with her hand, preventing him from turning his face. "You haven't changed," she whispered softly. "Still so perfect, and I've gotten so old..."

He held her hand to his face, his eyes closing. "That is what I should say," he murmured softly, turning his face and kissing her palm.

It was a familiar motion, one he'd done many times in her dreams and it brought tears to her eyes. She may have been crazy, but she could have sworn she saw his own eyes misting as well. She would probably blame it on her exhausted state, but she leaned forward, brushing her lips tenderly against his high cheekbone and when she pulled back and looked at him, there was a heart-breaking hope in his mismatched eyes.

She really was cruel. He was right. All this time, she'd never believed him, but when this was over she would leave him and-

She didn't have a chance to finish the thought, because he must have felt that her affectionate move gave him permission to shower her with his own. His hand caught the back of her hair and his lips found her own, gentle, coaxing, _pleading_. It was beautiful and made her heart twist in her chest, even as the hand that had rested on his cheek slipped back into his hair.

He wasn't pushing her, heaven knew as weak as she was it would be easy to push her back among the mossy ground and have his way with her, but he instead continued kissing her as if she were the only thing he needed and food and air were secondary. It was growing physically and emotionally painful to continue kissing him and he moaned softly, a pained and desperate sound and she thought that maybe he this was hurting him as well. She returned her hand to his face and broke the kiss, looking up at him, suddenly aware that she'd been crying.

His eyes opened and looked down at her, then grew concerned. "Sarah," he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

She took a shuddering breath, burrowing her face into his shoulder once more. He seemed uncertain for a moment what he should do, but finally his arms came to rest against her back, holding her gently.

Something cherished, something loved.

She closed her eyes, taking the little comfort she could have. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but she wasn't certain what she was apologizing for. Her hands were shaking, and she slipped the other one to his back, grasping his shirt tightly. His embrace tightened, implying that he'd heard her.

"I...as well," he said softly, and she felt him press his lips against her hair.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Erin frowned darkly at the canopy of leaves that hung over her. Her kidnapper was snoozing only feet away from her, still with that damn noose around his wrist and connected to her ankle. She was exhausted and she didn't know how she'd managed to stay awake past when he fell asleep, but she was grateful she'd done it.

Sitting upright, and glancing towards her captor, she began clawing at the noose around her ankle, finding that the skin was red and chaffed. Her feet were filthy, and there were small cuts and blisters all over them. She felt disgusting, as the day had been rather hot, and she'd sweat rather badly. She wanted a bath, but before that, there was something else she had to accomplish.

She had to get the hell away from her kidnapper and try to figure out how she was going to get to her mother before he caught up to her.

Once she was free of the tether, she stood very quietly, frowning as the cloak slipped off of her. It would be practical to keep it, however she glanced towards the man who lay on the ground – a man who had saved her life twice – and noticed that he was shivering. The firelight danced on his hair and she couldn't help but notice again that he was extremely attractive.

It wasn't fair. Here she stood, a twelve year old girl, confronted with a man who was another level above even handsome, and she was gawky, awkward and unseemly. She didn't like feeling inferior to anyone, especially not to this man who had stolen her away from her mother.

Still, he'd saved her.

She leaned over him, draping the cloak over his sleeping form. She kept crouched there for a long moment, looking down at him. "Sorry, Kieran. But I can't just stick around here and leave my life in the winds. My fate is my own." She hesitated for a moment, and then smiled, leaning down and kissing his cheek. "You really are nice. I wish that there were more guys like you back home sans the kidnapping of course."

Then she stood and quietly trudged in another direction from the way he'd been leading them. The moon above her must be full, because the forest appeared to be extremely well lit. It was eerily silent, but she tried to take comfort in it. There was only the faintest rustle of leaves of the trees around her. It occurred to her that the forest must be extremely old, because the trees were hugely tall, and the trunks were so wide, she couldn't even wrap her arms part way around them.

Her feet led her through the forest, and she continued to glance nervously behind herself, until the firelight that her kidnapper slept beside had died out. When that happened, she was surprised at the sharp pang of loneliness, and she pulled the crystal that had shown her mother before from her bag. She looked down at it and saw her mother lay sleeping, her face tight from exhaustion, even as she rested. Her mother's face was pillowed against the thigh of a man who had wild blond hair that stuck off in all directions. He was dressed much as Kieran had been a billowing shirt, leather jerkin, tight breeches. His hands had on gloves.

Suddenly, as if he felt the scrutiny, his face lifted and she gasped in shock, dropping the crystal. Those _eyes_. They were her own eyes. Her mother had somehow contacted her father, and they were looking for her _together!_ Excitement raced through her and she found herself trying to move faster, still having no idea where she should be trying to go, but wanting to get there as quickly as possible.

She wasn't certain how long she'd run before her foot landed in something wet and there was nothing solid beneath it. Bog, her mind identified, and she tried to swim upward, but she had no idea which way up was, and she opened her eyes, looking around desperately trying to figure out where she was.

Large, black eyes looked at her out of a pale, feminine face. The skin was almost green, and the hair that flowed around the creature that Erin saw was pale yellow, and looked so soft. Erin felt suddenly peaceful, even as the creature wrapped it's hand around her wrist and began drawing her deeper.

Her feeling of peace and serenity was shattered by a thunderous sound from above, and the creature turned suddenly frightful, its full mouth opening wider than should be possible, revealing rows of deadly sharp teeth. Erin opened her mouth to scream, and it filled with disgusting water just as a hand grabbed her free one and she felt herself being drug away from the creature who was gnashing its teeth in anger and throwing a silent temper tantrum.

She broke the surface and choked on the air, gasping and retching at the taste in her mouth. She heard what her brain recognized as swearing, but she was still disoriented, and soaking and freezing. She shivered fiercely and bent over, vomiting on the ground. She was cold, terrified, and slowly her dazed brain began sorting out what the swearing was.

"You little fucking idiot! What the hell did you think you were doing? I thought you understood how dangerous these woods were!" The swearing continued, but there were hands brushing over her now, hands that were warm and comforting somehow. Slowly, she focused on the owner of the voice and found temperamental gold eyes looking down at her.

She coughed up the last of the bog water and felt hopelessness and fear finally strangling her. She'd kept strong for so long, put on a brave face and kept her chin up. But she was far away from her home and her mother. Tears filled her eyes and began pouring down her face, but she didn't sob once. She kept her face down as the man continued to swear at her for being an idiot. Was there no way to get away? Was she stuck, stranded until her mother came to get her?

"Just where did you think you were going," Kieran asked finally, and she felt his gloved hand beneath her chin.

Angry, she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me! This is all your fault! Why couldn't you just leave us alone? We didn't do anything to any of you, we never hurt anyone, we never called upon any of you! Just leave us alone!"

The young man went strangely silent and she lifted her tear-stained face defiantly to look at him. He looked uncomfortable, maybe even upset. When his eyes returned to her, she saw conflict in them, and he moved towards her, scooping her into his arms. His warmth seeped through her soaked clothes almost immediately and she squeezed her eyes shut. Tears continued to fall down her face and all she could do was turn her face into his shoulders and cry.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran felt her shaking as he carried her back to the warmth of the fire. He would have been lying to say that he'd not felt the faintest panic when he'd woken and found the tether had been pulled from her ankle and left on the ground. Her scent fading had been what had pulled him from his sleep and he'd immediately run in the direction of the fading scent.

For a human, she moved fast, because she'd made it almost a mile and a half away from the camp before her unfortunate – or in his case, fortunate – fall in the bog. There had been the faintest glow beneath the water that he'd recognized as the green hue of a naiad, one of the less benevolent creatures of the Underground and realized his charge was in serious trouble. He'd gone in, holding on to the ground beside the bog with one hand, searching for the nearest available limb to grab with the other.

He'd found her hand seconds later and then drug her to the surface. He'd begun yelling at her long before she'd broken the surface, long before he'd realized how badly she'd frightened him. Then, she'd curled in on herself, her trembling growing worse as she knelt on the ground in front of him, her face hidden from sight. Her slapping his hand away had come as a bit of a surprise, as she'd been acting rather personable, if a little melancholy all day. He expected the blame, even embraced it.

She wouldn't be capable of walking back and he'd known it, so he'd lifted her against his chest, feeling a little surprised as she'd burrowed into him, her arms going around his neck as she continued crying. She was soaking wet and it still got cold at night here. However, the fire was roaring rather well and he set her before it, finding a few more sticks to toss in, making it roar just a bit more. Once she was sat upon the ground, she huddled in on herself immediately.

Kieran could already see the sky was lightening to a faded gray color and he pulled out some sausages, cooking them in the fire once again. The girl didn't speak, didn't look into the fire. She just sat there and shivered. He dug through his bag, pulling out a small cake that he'd been saving for himself and set it on her knees. "Eat something," he said softly.

"I don't want it," she muttered, her voice still dark and angry.

"Erin, you need to eat."

She lifted her hand and knocked it off her lap and he watched it fall to the moss beside her. He lifted it, dusting the dirt off, grinding his teeth together in anger and frustration. "What the hell are you being so pissy about?"

She was quiet for a long time before she spoke. "I just want to go home," she said quietly.

He lowered his head, sighing softly. His cloak had been left to lie on the ground and he scooped it up, wrapping it around her shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. He didn't look at her as she lifted her face and looked at him in seeming surprise. "It's not right, it's not fair and if I could have gotten around it, I wouldn't have done it." Finally, he lifted his face and looked at her. "In my family, I have no social standing. I'm the son of a king and a commoner who was not the queen- the son of a mistress. I'm a prince because of my father, but I'm not good enough to be the heir because of my mother."

Erin's wide, mismatched eyes were looking at him, through him. He lowered his gaze and looked at the fire again. "Unfortunately, there's no one else. I had five brothers by my father's wife, and they were each in line before I was. During the war with the goblin kingdom, they were all killed." He hesitated, glancing towards her again. "They still don't think I'm good enough. The queen died in childbirth a year ago, and the infant died not long after that, from some sort of sickness. Still, I'm only good enough for the things that other fae won't dirty themselves with. Assassinating kings and kidnapping mortals," he made sure that his loathing was thick in his voice.

"So you kidnapped me because your daddy doesn't love you?"

He snarled, lifting his gaze and looking at her in anger. Her eyes were just as angry, however and he found himself surprised by the depth of fury in them. "I kidnapped you because you were a better option than your mother and if I'd gone back empty handed I would have been executed," he said, keeping his voice cold.

Her eyes widened and she sucked in her breath.

He felt hot with anger; however, he was suddenly aware that he was shivering. The dampness of his clothes was getting to him, despite the heat of the fire, and the wounded arm was causing a great deal of pain still. He broke the fairy cake in half, thrusting part of it towards her once more, refusing to look at her. "Eat it."

He felt her hands come up accepting the cake and he quickly ate his half, hoping it would spike his body temperature. After he'd demolished his, he glanced towards where Erin was sitting and he saw that she was still hunched in on herself, holding the fairy cake in her hands, looking at it – or maybe looking through it at something she couldn't see. He was surprised at the amount of guilt he felt.

She was right, really. This was no fault of hers or her mother's even. He'd hurt two people who had done nothing to him, simply because he felt they would be a weakness of the goblin king. Hell, even the goblin king had done nothing to him. The reason he'd done the things he'd always done was because his father asked him and he desperately wanted his father's approval. And for what? So that he'd get to inherit the throne of a second rate country and the hate for the neighboring kingdom?

"Erin," he tried to keep his voice even and calm, but he heard his own personal resentment ringing in it. He didn't look at her as he spoke. "Eat the cake."

She looked at him, and he knew it because he saw the movement out of the corner of his eyes. After another long moment, she lifted the cake and nibbled on the edge of it. She didn't eat much before she handed the rest back to him. "I'd like to save the rest. Just in case I start craving something sweet again," she said softly.

He lifted his face and saw there was the faintest hint of regret in her eyes. "Alright," he said quietly, taking the rest of the cake from her and returning it to its cloth wrapping and then into the pouch.

"That thing that grabbed me in the water," she continued speaking quietly. "What was it?"

He was too tired for conversation, however, it was too late to return to sleep. Soon they'd have to be on their way. "It's a naiad, sort of a water sprite, but not the nice kind. It will lure innocents into the water and drown them, and if you do die of drowning by one of those beasts, you turn into one." He felt a tiny hand touch his and he looked towards her.

"So you saved me again. That's three times now. I'm running out of ways to pay you back," she spoke with a voice laced with irony and he looked towards her in surprise. She looked towards him as well and he saw a wry smile on her lips. The first he'd seen since she'd mentioned that horrid sounding invention called a birthing tape. Why would anyone want to watch their own infant self being born?

He looked at her and a reluctant smile was pulled to his own lips. "Only a weirdo like you would be worried about paying back her kidnapper," he said quietly, ruffling her pale, damp hair.

She laughed, her eyes closing and her shoulders shaking. "Fair's fair. You kidnapped me, but you're also protecting me. I don't know if that's just so I'll make it to our destination alive or what, but I'm still breathing. It would have been a lot easier if you'd just let the naiad take me." She paused for a second, looking back at the fire. "I guess what I'm trying to say is 'thank you'."

He looked at her profile, surprised at her straight-forward attitude. He was silent, just watching her, for a long time before he finally answered her with, "you're welcome."

After a few more minutes, he banked the fire and stood, getting ready to leave, when he glanced towards Erin and found that had pillowed her cheek on her knee and fallen asleep. He sighed heavily and dropped down beside her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her arms around his neck. He heard her mumbled sigh and she wrapped her arms tighter, her cheek resting between his shoulders. "Trusting little idiot," he said softly. "Thanking your kidnapper when he's really taking you to your death."

He forced his mind from that path and stood, carrying Erin Williams closer towards her doom.

_AN: Next chapter, the rating is going to go up, just letting everyone know now._


	6. Chapter 5

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Five

It had been several days since he'd spirited away Erin Williams by now, and they'd finally stumbled across the border between the kingdoms. They'd settled into a sort of truce. Erin no longer tried to run away whenever his back was turned and he didn't tether her to himself. He let her go to the bushes by herself, rather than following and turning his back for the illusion of privacy, as well as giving her moments alone when she wanted to sulk or cry without eyes upon her and in return she pretended not to notice when he did something that was still awkward and adolescent.

Then again, perhaps she really didn't notice.

They'd wandered into a town due to necessity. Kieran needed first aide items, they needed food, and it had been decided that Erin badly needed clothing. Erin didn't see a problem really; she was quite comfortable in the oversized shirt and vest she'd kidnapped from his own wardrobe, but Kieran was slightly uncomfortable with how much skin her shorts showed off as well as how aware he was of that skin.

The town was grungy- more a slum than a town, but it was close enough to the border to be considered a neutral territory. He knew for a fact that most of the residents were whores, thieves, and miscreants who were hiding from one or both governments. As they moved through the town, he managed to mostly ignore the men leering at the young girl at his side. However, he was having a great deal more trouble ignoring the lovely ladies who were looking speculatively from himself to the child.

Several wandered towards them, a few draping themselves on him and coyly mentioning that they liked the paternal type. The girl at his side watched them with interest and amusement and left his side, moving forward with an innocence that wasn't quite naivety.

"Naughty of you, getting a little girl to help you pick up a lady," chastised one of the whores.

He gave the woman an amused smile and arched a brow. "Trust me, my 'lady'," he said that word with a hint of irony and sarcasm. "I've no need of any help to pick someone up." He shrugged her off his arm and went off to find his charge.

He let his eyes follow the girl as she moved from booth to booth through the town. It was important that he keep an eye on her, because the more people around, the more likely it was that her identity would become known. It wouldn't do to have to kidnap her from another kidnapper.

Her scent was growing stronger, and most would look at her and realize who and what she was at this point. His father was not the only one who would like to take a stab at the Goblin King, and most wouldn't be as considerate of a child like her. Many mercenaries or the like would not just kidnap her, they'd also rape or do any other number of things to hurt and break a precocious child such as Erin.

The idea of her getting hurt had sickened him for awhile, and he didn't really understand why. After all, he had kidnapped her himself, so how was he any different? There was something on the edge of his thoughts, maybe affection, but he wasn't that big of an idiot. He couldn't actually care about a sacrifice. That would be like asking to get himself hurt or killed.

He wasn't certain what to make of these confusing emotions she stirred in him. By all rights, they should hate each other. She was the spawn of the man who killed most of his family, including the only person who'd ever seen him as worth anything. Still, as Erin had said a few nights ago, that was not her fault. It had been years before the child was even conceived.

He sighed, fingering the now dingy bandage that was around his arm. He was lucky that no iron flecks had entered his blood. Iron touching the skin didn't usually kill unless it struck a vital spot, but the wounds it opened bled for an abnormal amount of time, and just a few pieces of iron entering the body could cause a catastrophic systems failure. She'd gotten stubborn, forceful about bandaging it. The clumsy bandage drew his attention back to the girl.

The girl hummed softly as she moved, peering at the merchant booths, her hands clasped behind her back, her pale hair spilling over her shoulders, fastened out of her face by a horrid little plastic clip that had somehow survived the past several days. Her hair was tangled, her skin was smeared with dirt, but despite her grubby appearance, he found that she looked rather adorable. However, as that thought passed through her head, she stopped at a weaponry stand and he was ashamed to admit that the interest on her face made him slightly uncomfortable.

Kieran had never met a creature quite like the half-mortal daughter of the Goblin King. She was unapologetic, sassy, and had a foul mouth, and yet she was also funny, brave – or foolhardy – and cunning. Were she several years older and not the daughter of his family's mortal enemy, he could see being friends with the irritating chit, even arguing over drinks at a pub. She was earthy, rather than ethereal, and he found that refreshing and somewhat entertaining.

When she wasn't trying to kick him in the balls.

She was different than the fae of the court that usually surrounded him back home. She looked at him and did not judge him for his birth, only his actions. Despite the kidnapping, she still smiled at him, still laughed at or with him. However, when she learned that he was guiding her to her death, condemnation would be on her face and that knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth. He hated to admit that he valued her trust, and knowing that he was betraying it hurt him.

He continued following her at a slight distance, but he noticed a table with hair ornaments laying across it, most suited for ladies rather than little girls. He eyed them, a frown turning down his lips. God, he hated that hair clip she always wore. It was an unsightly thing. There was a copper comb that was actually rather nice, and he glanced towards her, wondering how she'd respond to such a gift.

She'd moved on from the weaponry and Kieran noticed several young men approaching her, ones only slightly younger than himself. He sighed in exasperation, running a hand through his hair. "I can't leave that kid alone for two minutes," he muttered, heading towards where Erin was getting harassed into a corner.

From where he was, he could see the irritated expression on her face and he knew that these boys were pushing some lines they ought not to push with a girl of Erin's temperament. He scrubbed a hand over his face, and as he took it away, he watched the mildly irritated look turn to one that went beyond fury. One of the lads must have done something that he shouldn't have.

Kieran really wasn't in the best position to see what was happening, but he saw her jerk, and then a thin cry of shock escaped the mouth of the boy in front of her. The other two had eyes wide and jaws gaping, not moving towards her to stop her. The third one was quivering. He heard her voice – a low growl – a moment later.

"You ever touch me like that again, I'll rearrange your masculine bits and I won't bother using a knife to do it!"

Kieran was finally on the scene of the incident and he was able to see exactly what she was doing to the unfortunate youth. Suddenly grossly aware that he'd gotten off rather easy when he and Erin had met, he followed the curve of her arm to where it ended in a fist between the foolish young man's legs. She had an iron grip on the male's privates and he couldn't help but wince a little bit in sympathy for the violent treatment such a sensitive area was receiving.

Well, that certainly put 'got him by the balls' in proper perspective.

The two who were not at the hands of the cruel grip scrambled off, looking pale and stunned, while the other stood there. Tears were running from the blue eyes of the boy and snot was running from his nose.

"Erin," Kieran called gently.

When Erin's mismatched eyes lifted, there was a wildness in them that he suspected had little to do with her fae lineage and more to do with the fact that she was a female. He couldn't help but think that at that moment, she'd like to treat him to the same sort of affection that she was giving the boy.

He kept his voice calm, gentle. "He isn't going to do anything else. You can let him go now."

Her hand tightened and he heard the boy whimper. At this moment, Kieran wasn't about to take his eyes off the furious girl before him. Slowly, he set a hand on her wrist. It only made her hand tighten further. "He grabbed my tit," she snarled.

Yeah, that would piss off most prepubescent women, regardless of their background. He forced himself to give her a patronizing smile, and then glanced down at where her hand was. "And you're grabbing his dick, kid."

That must have shocked her, because she looked down at where her hand was and it sprang open. The boy, no longer supported by the not-entirely-mortal strength sagged to the ground, sobbing and clutching his privates as if to verify that they were still there. Meanwhile, she looked down at her hand and shuddered, shaking it as if trying to get something nasty off of it.

He covered his mouth to contain a snicker. The picture that she made was just too funny, and even knowing that she was still rather pissed with his gender, he couldn't muffle all of his laughter. The girl stopped, her wide eyes looking up at him and her lips faintly pursed in displeasure. He wasn't quite able to wipe all traces of his amusement off of his face but they had things they had to get, and they needed to get started. "Come on, kitten. Let's find you some suitable clothes and then we'll get a snack."

Tempted by the offer of food, she nodded. Still wiping her hand off on her shorts, she looked up at him almost adorably sulky. "You're too entertained by this," she accused, shooting him that glare that could singe the hair off a man's balls.

Having been subjected to that glare off and on for days, the effects were wearing off. Or perhaps it was because this was just the way things were between them. Abrasively polite, like friends who weren't really sure if they liked or hated each other most of the time. He gave her a mocking little smile. "Aren't you a little too old for the whole 'boy's have cooties' thing?"

She arched a brow, giving him a defiant look. "Boys are disgusting," she said bluntly. "They're dirty, rude, potty-mouths-" he was unable to contain his snort at that and received an appropriately scathing look from her. "And since they can still drop worms down a girl's shirt, then I don't see why I shouldn't be as big a pain in the ass."

He glanced down at her, smirking in his amusement. "Ah, so it's that then." He began collecting some clothes for her, a jerkin cut for a girl, as well as a blouse and traveling skirt, never noticing that she was right behind him, collecting clothing as well. "Although, if the rules are still the same as when I was a boy, they only drop worms down the shirts of a girl they _like_."

The girl behind him sputtered and swore softly.

He tossed the clothing as well as the girl into a changing booth and leaned against the door, whistling cheerfully. Irritating the snot out of her was getting to be great fun, a wonderful way to pass time on their little trip. Her temper made it quite a lot of fun. He heard her muttering and shifting behind him and glanced back, chuckling.

"Can't you just magic me into some clothing?" The sentence was followed by a loud thump and a stream of cursing that would make a sailor blush.

"That would take too much energy," he countered calmly.

"Yeah, well your taste in clothing sucks anyways." Several articles were heaved over the top of the door, smacking him in the face. One was the blouse. He pulled it down, peering at it and then at the door. "You need something else?"

"No, I'm making due."

What the hell did that mean?

The door opened after another ten minutes and he stared. Her outfit wasn't ladylike, wasn't appropriate, wasn't anything he could rationalize. She wore leather breeches with knee high leather boots. The vest that had been his had been exchanged for another vest, which had a short split skirt and laced up the front. She still wore the poets shirt he'd lent her. The skirt lay discarded upon the floor.

He blinked several times. "That's...not exactly appropriate for a girl your age."

"Where I'm from, you don't wear skirts when you're tramping over countryside. I don't like them and if you try to force me to wear it I'll just keep my shorts, thank you very much." She was the picture of defiance, and Kieran couldn't help but chuckle a bit, shaking his head.

"You are the most irritating mortal girl I've ever met," he said, eying her in amusement.

She gave him a sassy smile. "I'm the _only_ mortal girl you've ever met."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Progress had been distressingly slow. Sarah had hoped that by now she'd be reunited with her daughter, however this was not so. The day prior, they'd come upon a camp where Jareth had found a tether, likely to keep her daughter from escaping. However, it had been discarded, left behind.

Which meant that it was likely that Erin wasn't trying to get away anymore.

Neither possible reason behind that really sat well with Sarah, because one was Stockholm Syndrome, where Erin had developed an affection or even love for her kidnapper; the other was Erin was in no shape to run any longer, which meant that she would have been beaten into submission.

Jareth had looked towards her in speculation and brushed aside her concerns.

Now, they were resting for the night on the mossy forest floor, and she noticed that Jareth had a look of concern on his own face. "You're worried," she said softly.

"They must not be resting very often. We're very close to the border, now and I cannot cross it. Anyone on that side would try to kill me, and I'll not put you in danger," he said quietly. "Besides, to attack the heir of that kingdom on their soil could be viewed as an act of war. I am uncertain how to proceed when we reach that crucial point."

Sarah looked towards him. "Yet you think that my concerns are silly and not worth the risk-"

"I don't think they're silly, precious. I think they're impossible."

She huffed, glaring at him. "Why, oh powerful Goblin King, is that?"

He shot her a dirty look. They had avoided getting too close to one another since the night he'd carried her to camp and they'd shared that heart-wrenching kiss. To touch was physically painful considering that they would be separated as soon as Erin was back in her mother's arms. As a result, their tempers were straining towards the source of the its frustration.

He rolled onto his side, looking at her. "Regarding her possibly falling in love with her kidnapper, I think you're forgetting that this is _your_ child, and twelve years old for that matter. I find it hard to believe that a few days with an immortal are going to dazzle her as it would most mortals. Considering the fact that they're traipsing through the forest, I doubt he's _doing_ anything to dazzle her. She's probably just as temperamental and snarky as her mother is in this situation."

She averted her gaze so that he wouldn't see the blush on her cheeks. "And why do you think the other is impossible?"

He pillowed his head on his hand, arching a brow at her. "The same reason as the other. This is your child we're talking about. She's probably driving that poor unknowing fool out of his skin for reasons he can't even begin to decipher."

"You make us found like a family of hateful seductresses." Sarah huffed, glaring towards him, seeing an amused smile on his face.

"No, my dear," he objected. "A seductress does it intentionally. You are just refreshing and unique, and that combination is difficult to deal with when one is unprepared. Hell, it's difficult when one _is_ prepared. You seduced me unintentionally through your defiance and your innocence." She knew he saw the blush on her face, but the sad and amused look on his face made her unable to turn away from him. She dug inside herself, trying to find some fight, but she was so tired of fighting with him.

He made her hope that they could really be together.

He must have seen the pain and sadness that she felt, because as she turned away, his hand caught her face, holding her steady. She scents of the earth surrounded her, tempered by the scent of ozone and magic that came from the man above her. She found herself looking up into his mismatched eyes, her breath leaving her in a rush.

For a moment, she thought he would lean down and kiss her, but there was just that perplexed expression on his face, as though he were trying to understand something that he couldn't quite place. He remained as he was, frozen in place over her, his eyes searching hers for so long. "Does my presence cause you so much pain?"

She looked up at him in surprise. His face had grown weary, sad. She didn't want to lie to him, but she didn't want to hurt him, either. "Yes and no," she finally answered. "Sometimes, being here with you reminds me of what might have been, and that hurts more than I thought I could. Others, having you here beside me gives me comfort that I thought I'd never have again."

His eyes were sympathetic, but not pitying. After a long moment, he sat up. "I understand the feeling," he said after an equally long silence. He stared off into the trees, his face serious. "Being beside you causes the same feelings."

"Jareth," she said softly, sitting and moving towards him. She gently touched his face, drawing his attention back to her.

"You knew that I loved you when you married that mortal. When you gave yourself to him. I know why you did it, and I understand. I hope that for however long you two were together, that you were happy. However it nearly killed me when the next night I was not allowed into your dreams." He looked away from her. "I had hoped that whatever you felt for me was stronger than your need for human companionship."

She dropped her hand, closing her eyes against the pain. "I should have never married him," she acknowledged.

"He should have valued you for the woman you are," Jareth said quietly. "What was so terrible that after one year of marriage he couldn't work it out with you?"

She averted her gaze from him. "I did something that he couldn't forgive," she said softly. "It's for the best for Erin and I. We survived, and we're stable now." She gripped the toes of her boots, ignoring the dust.

"What did you do?" He looked towards her baffled. "Everything can be forgiven."

She couldn't answer that so she stood, pacing away from him, dragging a hand through her hair. "Jareth, it's not something I can explain right now."

"Why not?" He was getting agitated. She could see it from the frown cutting across his face. She groaned, pacing away from him. "Sarah, you're a loving and beautiful woman. How could he have not forgiven you for the smallest grievance? I can't imagine you doing something so terrible that he couldn't forgive you!"

"Have you forgiven me for leaving?" She lashed out at him because it was all she could do.

He snarled at her, moving towards her, gripping her arms hard. "I forgave you for that nineteen years ago! The moment you told me that you wanted to keep seeing me, I forgave you! I loved you, so it wasn't in me to deny you that much!"

"It would have been easier if you'd hated me," she yelled, trying to pull away from him.

"I can't hate you! There's nothing that you could tell me that would make me hate you!"

She lashed out, slapping him across the face, trying to shut him up. He grabbed her wrists and they wrestled for several long moments before she realized that they weren't using their voices any longer.

She wasn't entirely certain how it happened. One moment, they'd been arguing loudly, their fury and frustration practically a living thing. Now, however, she was pressed against a tree and his lips were against hers, still furious, the kiss tasting of a pain she recognized. They were still arguing. There was no point in denying that. However, the passion of their words had given away to the passion of action and she was fighting him as fiercely as he fought her.

His hands bit into her arms, likely leaving bruises from the pressure and she slipped her hands into the neck of his shirt, digging her nails into his shoulders and feeling the skin give under the pressure. He hissed in pain or pleasure, she wasn't really sure which, before his hands slipped down, gripping her backside as he lifted her off the ground. His body pressed her harder into the tree and she moaned into his kiss.

Her own hands moved to the front of his shirt and she gripped either side of the loose collar, jerking the shirt hard enough that she heard the fabric tear. Her eager fingers ran over his skin as his mouth found her ear and he was whispering violently into her ear, words she couldn't understand but she heard the same needy quality in his voice that she felt in her own body. When he thrust into her, the pressure hit her just right so that her body craved him.

"Jareth," she moaned, her head falling back and giving him access to her neck.

He breathed raggedly on her skin and she could swear that she felt his hands give the faintest tremble. Then, those trembling hands guided her legs to the ground and one reached around, stopping at the front of her pants. "Sarah," he breathed softly against her mouth and she forced her eyes open to look at him. "If you don't stop me now, I won't stop," he warned her softly.

Her breath tore from her and she knew he was warning her of something, but she didn't know what he was trying to tell her. "Do you want to stop," she wasn't sure where she found the ability to speak, but she did, and her words caused him to flinch.

"Yes," he breathed. "And never." His hand flipped open the buttons on her trousers and she felt them slide down her legs. She became aware enough of what was happening that she pulled back a bit to stare at him. She would have asked him what that meant, but he chased her, his mouth fastening on hers, pressing her back into the tree harder as his tongue swept into her mouth and one gloved hand slipped between her legs and began to caress her.

Her legs nearly gave out. She gripped his shoulders as his free arm snaked around her waist, supporting her and keeping her from falling as the other continued to torture her. She writhed against him, arching into his fingers as he drove her mad, until he withdrew, lifting that hand to his mouth, where he licked the gloved digits that had been playing with her.

She watched him, her jaw hanging slightly agape. Her throat was dry and she was certain that her face was burning. Then he shifted and she became aware that when his hand was between them, he'd freed himself from his own trousers as well. The flush on her face darkened until she was certain that her whole face was red and his hands slid along her legs, coaxing her to wrap them around his hips. "Jareth," she breathed uncertainly.

His eyes met hers as she felt him press into hers and her breathing hitched. She wanted to watch his expression, but her head went back as she gasped out sharply in pleasure. It was so intense, the pleasure was almost pain and her head jerked back, her fingers biting into his arms. A whimpered cry left her and she heard his answering moan.

He went slow, inch by inch, until his hips pressed into her own and she was finally able to open her eyes and look at him. He was looking at her, his expression one that looked as pained as it was pleased. Her hands lifted to his face, running across his cheekbones, his jaw, all the sculpted lines. "Jareth," she whispered, awed and heart-broken.

In response to his name, he adjusted his grip on her, one arm going around her back, caressing her spine, the other cupping the base of her skull as he coaxed her to lean forward so he might kiss her. "Sarah," he breathed against her lips, taking them as he began to move within her.

Heaven help her, it was exactly how she remembered it. It had been one time, one dream, before she'd belong to someone else. Likely the man would never understand that she'd always been his. Even as a fifteen year old girl, she'd been more captivated by him than anyone before, or anyone after. She'd been so desperate to know that his words weren't just the final move in a game that she'd drawn him into her dreams and he'd courted her so patiently those six years.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, breaking the kiss to look down into his face – into his eyes – as he continued to claim her with that violent passion. As she stared down at him, she saw the naked truth written across his beloved face. It was the same for him. He may claim otherwise, he may even lie to her face, but he needed her as much as she needed him. Tears pierced her eyes and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his own. "I need you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

His breath rushed from his lips, ragged on her face. "I know," he whispered back, thrusting harder into her. She cried out, her head falling back once again. He continued, "as much as I need you, I know." His voice was tight with suppressed frustration and passion, and she gripped the back of his neck, pulling his mouth to her own, kissing him passionately, lovingly.

Finally she pulled back and cried out to him, "Jareth, please." Her face pressed into the wild mane of hair. "Don't hold back, not from me," she felt tears wetting her eyes and a soft sob left her. "Not when I love you so much."

Those whimpered words seemed to shatter his steel resolve. He shifted his grip, taking hold of her hips and driving himself into her with so much force it almost hurt, but it was still so good that she couldn't ask him to stop. He held her eyes with his, refusing to let her look away from him as he drove himself into her.

Sarah cupped his face between her hands, staring into his beautiful eyes, even as she felt her body thrown over the edge. She threw her head back, drawing his head to her chest and hugging him tightly as she gasped, moaned and finally came on him. She heard him laugh – that arrogant bastard laughed – but it was a desperate sound. A final thrust and he froze, holding her as tightly as she held him and she knew he had as well, at the same time or seconds after hers. She gave her own weak, desperate laugh, her hands curling into fists within his soft hair. Tears wet her face and she pressed it against his shoulder as his grip loosened and she slid down him just a bit.

His hands softened, gentled as they stroked her hair and he pressed his face against the side of hers. His ragged breaths tickled her ear and she shivered slightly. After a moment, he slipped to his knees, not releasing her as he fell. "Sarah," he whispered softly, his voice weak with exhaustion. "Sarah..." He lay on the ground, holding her close against him, his hands stroking and gripping her with care.

Their anger had been worked out of them; the passion was warm flames still lapping at their bodies. She turned his face to hers gently, wanting to see the look in his face, the look in his eyes. Joy was mixed with the frustration that still shone in his eyes. She touched the corners of his eyes with gentle care and whispered back softly. "Jareth."

She had to tell him. They'd find Erin sooner or later, and he needed to know before they did. She closed her eyes, tightening her grip on the man she loved for so long. Finally, she swallowed the pride she'd held onto since she'd first seen him again and turned her face into his neck once more. "Jareth," she began softly. "Erin is your daughter."


	7. Chapter 6

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Six

They'd spent the evening in that town, and Erin was grossly aware that Kieran was on the receiving end of both dirty and extremely interested looks. She tried to imagine how they must look together, but having no precedent, she had no way to do so. She knew he was as aware of the glances as she, however, he was ignoring them; putting his focus on the first real food they'd eaten in almost a week.

He was oddly quiet, which wasn't unusual for him, however, he did usually talk to her a bit over their meal, but he'd grown tense as the day passed.

Now, they lay in a room, their beds on opposite sides of it, and he was tossing and turning in his own. He had been still for the first hour, as if trying to keep his internal upset a secret, until she finally pretended to be asleep, and that's when his agitation really began. There was something that was tearing him apart, and she didn't know what it was. In fact, it seemed to her that he'd begun having more and more trouble sleeping in the past days.

It rather bothered her that she didn't know what was eating the person she'd begun to consider a friend. She'd mostly forgiven him for kidnapping her and she'd be lying if she said she hadn't grown attached to her sometimes over protective fae companion. Still, it was touching that he was trying to protect her by keeping her sheltered. She just wasn't certain how she was going to explain to him that she'd always been extremely astute regarding the emotions of others.

She just usually didn't care. She'd grown to realize that with Kieran that didn't apply. She actually cared about him, and so it did bother her when something bothered him. She didn't want to examine it too much, but it was true. Without a word, she gathered up her blanket and moved over to his bed and climbed in.

He nearly came out of his skin. He whipped around, looking at her with a deer in the headlights sort of expression. "What are you doing," he asked after a long moment. He was still looking at her like she was insane.

"I'm having trouble sleeping. Sometimes it helps if I sleep with mom, so I thought it might work with you," she answered easily. It wasn't all a lie. She really did crawl into bed with her mother, but usually it was Sarah Williams that needed the comfort, and she knew that this man could be as stubborn as her mother about some things, so she didn't give him the real reason.

"Damn kid," he grumbled. She took that as acceptance, so she snuggled down onto the mattress, trying not to snicker about how he tried to squeeze himself into the corner as tightly as possible. She didn't get too close to him, didn't put her arms around as she would have with her mother, but she found that even though he'd grown more tense with her presence, she had relaxed and she looked at his back, smiling faintly.

"Goodnight, Kieran," she said softly, then closed her eyes, feeling sleep swiftly pulling her into its grasp.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran sighed, irritated and exasperated at his current situation. He was curled up tightly against the wall, trying to not have any contact with the girl at his side. The warmth from her had seeped into him since she'd first lay down beside him, giving him plenty of space at first.

However, she had begun shifting some time ago, and now she was pressed snug against his back.

"Gimme some space," he snapped at her, turning to cast a glare at the now very comfortably cuddly young lady. His glare had little effect, because he found that she'd fallen into a sound sleep, and looked very content right where she was.

He gave a soft huff, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. That girl had some kind of backbone, he decided, a grudging smile turning up his lips. Jumping into a bed with the fully grown man who'd kidnapped her had to have taken some spine. She also had a fire and determination that he couldn't help but admire, and she attacked the world with such passion he wasn't certain he should call her brave or foolhardy. She was just a child of twelve years and yet she'd managed to run him – who was nearly a hundred years old – completely ragged.

It stood to reason that she would be exhausted, he thought, turning towards her and looking down into her sleeping face, a small smile turning up his lips.

Who would have thought that she would fall asleep so easily beside him? After all, he had kidnapped this girl called Erin Williams. The daughter of the Goblin King. The thought sobered him completely, all traces of his smile now gone.

He knew his father would want to use the girl as a sacrifice, to use her blood to incite war with the Goblin Kingdom, to try to unseat the Goblin King and take that throne as he'd failed to do all those years ago. He'd known that would be his father's choice as soon as he'd kidnapped the girl, had known that would have been the mother's fate as well.

Now, however, the mere idea of it turned his stomach.

Something deep inside him cried out that he had to protect her, to defend this child who was in a strange land and could not protect herself from the evils within it. He wanted to take care of her, to watch her grow into the woman he somehow knew she'd become. He wanted to-

He covered his mouth in horror and shock.

He wanted to be with her. The thought struck him and he couldn't deny that he was suddenly terrified.

He was falling in love with her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, hiding the face that was so close to his own now. She was just a child; he couldn't fall in love with a little girl! It was impossible, impractical. He would have to be ten times the fool to fall in love with the one he kidnapped. She was just an irritating little brat, with spine and spirit. Just a tool that had lovely eyes, and the very beginning of the curves she'd have as a woman.

Dammit. This was absurd. Here he was, a century old, having been with some of the most beautiful courtiers of the Underground, having had lovers for half of his life, and he was falling in love with a brat who was still at that awkward point where she was caught between being a child and a woman.

This had to have been his mother's fault. He didn't think she'd truly be so cruel as to curse him like this, but it was a distinct possibility. When he'd been a boy, he'd asked her why she was still the mistress for the king who looked down at her as well as him. She had given him a fond smile and explained to him that love was blind, and you don't really have a choice regarding who you love. It's simply something that you do, and you shouldn't question it when it happens. She'd said that he should simply enjoy it when it occurs, because all too often, people in his situation will be forced into a political marriage.

He opened his eyes again, gazing upon that young face. He didn't know when it had started, but he resigned himself to the knowledge. "You troublesome little brat," he whispered, reaching forward and pushing the hair that had fallen from its plastic clip back over her shoulder. Reaching up, he unhooked the horrid little thing from her hair and tossed it away.

He would find a way, he decided. There had to be a way to fool his father into sparing her life, a way to make the old man think that his loyalty still lay with the King. There was no need for his father to know that it now rested in the hands of the child who was so trustingly laying at his side, snuggled against him.

A trump card, he thought, his eyes widening. A hostage to the peace. His father might just buy that excuse to keep her alive. After all, spilled blood would incite war, which would tear the remains of Bram's kingship apart. He didn't think Bram could see this, after all, he was caught in the grips of his personal madness still. Still, there had to be a way to convince him. However, as a hostage to the peace, she'd be confined to a dungeon for the rest of her life, and who knew what the guards would do to her.

The idea sickened him. He had to think of something else, something different, where she would be able to stay at his side, where he could continue to protect her.

He smoothed her hair gently, and then leaned forward, brushing his lips softly against her temple. "I'll protect you," he promised softly. "Someway, I will protect you." With that softly spoken declaration, he closed his eyes and pulled the girl closer, finding comfort in the warmth. "Sleep well, Erin."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"Jareth, Erin is your daughter."

Jareth sighed softly, his lips pursing just a bit when Sarah whispered that little sentence in his ear. He knew that the reasonable response to such a thing as this would be throwing the adult equivalent to a temper tantrum, and yet he found that he could not. Not so much because he wasn't irritated, because he was. However relief that she'd finally gotten around to tell him tempered that irritation, so the best he could do was purse his lips a bit and sigh.

That was obviously not the reaction that Sarah expected, because she lifted her face, looking down at him, a perplexed expression on her face. "You're not yelling."

"Obviously," he said calmly, seeing the confusion on her lovely face as she looked down at him. He sighed, shifting so that he was sitting up, his torn shirt gaping down to his belly button.

Sarah sat as well, wearing nothing but that poets' shirt, which barely veiled her breasts. Her hands were between her knees and she sat on her feet, looking concerned and troubled. "Why not?" Obviously, his unexpectedly mild response was throwing her off further.

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. "Darling, are you completely unaware of the fact that there is a picture of her sitting on your vanity?" He gave her a look of amused exasperation and watched her absorb that information. "You've been very careful, trying to keep this secret from me, however, you got very nervous when you learned that I can smell the differences in their blood. Granted, hers was weak at first, and it was harder to tell, and I knew there was a possibility that she was not my blood." He gave her a placid smile. "Until yesterday. The scent changed, became stronger, less subtle. I suspect it's driving her kidnapper insane right at this moment."

She closed her eyes tightly and he saw the pain on her face. "I shouldn't have hidden it," she said softly. "I just thought you would be angry and..."

"And," he prompted, rolling his hand to get her to continue.

Her eyes opened and he knew what she was going to say before she did. "I wasn't sure you'd believe me. I mean...it was just one time and in a dream, at that."

He reached forward, cupping her chin in his hand and preventing her from looking away from him. There was so much shame and pain on her face it was almost physically painful for him to look at her. He forced himself to, regardless, cupping the back of her head with the other hand. "First, you need to understand that once, a long time ago, the phenomenon was rather common. The fae used to have more dealings with humans, and when one of my kind would see a beautiful human who believed, they would come to her in dreams, woo her well enough that when the relationship ended, the woman was often left brokenhearted. In addition, nine months later, she'd find herself giving birth to a baby that was of mixed descent."

She stared at him, eyes wide in shock. "Wham bam, thank you, ma'am."

He gave her a half-smile. "Indeed. Regardless, as the veil thickened between our worlds, it's become far more uncommon, as fae are wrapped up in their own realm and think humans beneath them. There hasn't been a half-mortal fae in ages, and to my knowledge, there has never been one who was of royal descent. The leaders in the Underground are entirely too careful." He sighed, shaking his head. "Obviously I'm not too careful. I fell in love with a human woman who seems bent on driving me half-insane."

She gave a weak smile. "The feeling is mutual, highness."

He gave her a wry smile in return, then caressed her face tenderly. "And regarding my anger: would my rage make you stay at my side? I think not. As a matter of fact, I would imagine that being calm and understanding would gain far more ground with you, after the careless treatment you received at the hands of your former husband.

There was shock on her face. The faintest trace of hope. He gave her a smile that was just for her and coaxed her closer, caressing her lips gently, an apology for his rough treatment. "Although I admit that being calm and understanding with you is more difficult that you may suspect."

She gave a small smile. "You drive me crazy, too. In good ways and bad."

He sighed softly, hugging her against his chest. "Oh, you precious thing." She was shivering slightly, the cold air obviously affecting her once more, and he found her trousers, helping her put them on once again, and then wrapped her in his cape, holding her in his lap, his arms around her.

The exhausted woman quickly lost the battle for sleep and he found himself staring into the fire as she slept against him. It was true that he'd quickly figured out that Erin was his child. A child whose life he had missed twelve years of. It would have been a lie to say that when he'd first figured it out that he hadn't been angry in the slightest. At the trap, where there had been so much of the male's blood, there had been the faintest trace of the child's, just on the trigger for the trap.

That was when it had been fully confirmed. Still, he'd waited in hopes that the woman would tell him of her own will. That she'd waited this long had been driving him insane. He wanted to laugh regarding how she'd finally come to confess such a thing to him.

"You damned fool, you would have let me believe that it was a mortal's child clear up until we found her, wouldn't you?" His eyes saddened that her view of him was so bad that she believed that he wouldn't forgive her deception. He didn't really want to, because he'd missed his child's life, he'd missed being able to hold her when she was an infant, did not get to kiss scrapes and bruises. No, her mother had that privilege, and she would have taken the rest of it, had the child not been kidnapped.

That sobered him further. If she'd been kidnapped, then it was known to his enemies that Erin was his daughter. Bram was three times the fool for orchestrating this, however it seemed impossible that the old fool would know that he had a dreamborne child. That left Bram's remaining son, the kidnapper. For all of his talk, that boy had more cause to hate him than even his father.

He was Oberon's sword and shield, and it had been put upon his kingdom to knock Bram down a few pegs. The man was getting too powerful, and if it continued, then Oberon's power as the High King could have been overthrown. So he'd rallied his army, led them onto the field. Two of the brothers had fallen at his hand, simply because they would not stand down. Two more had fallen at the hands of goblins. The fifth had fled the battle, being caught and torn apart by the fieries.

The raven had come thundering down, had landed and changed into a young adolescent fae, who was killing goblins with surprising ease.

Jareth could remember bearing down on the boy, hoping to end this battle now, however the fool had turned towards him, had attacked. He'd descended into the battle rage further, and so when he lifted his sword for the death blow, he'd not seen the woman put herself before his sword.

After wards, in Oberon's court, Jareth had felt the youth's eyes upon him, had seen the hatred in those eyes. He could remember Bram slipping into madness when the bodies of his sons and lover were placed before him.

Yes, Erin was definitely in a great deal of danger. He could only hope that the boy was as susceptible to the charms of the Williams women as he'd found himself to be.

Yet now Jareth was not just chasing this foolish youth to take his daughter back. Now he also owed the foolish young fae a debt of gratitude. After all, if not for the man's theft of the child, Jareth may have never seen Sarah again, would have never known that he had a daughter.

Unable to quite believe it, he hugged the woman closer still, a grim smile turning up the corners of his lips. "You won't be leaving me this time, precious. Not ever again," he murmured, stroking a hand down across her back and drawing her closer still. Last time they'd been protected due to the fact that the union between them was only in their dreams. Even so, he'd been grieved the first time she left him, and the second time he had almost gone mad. Now, they didn't have that protection. They were stuck together, whether she liked it or not, because if she left and took Erin he wouldn't become a Fisher King. He would likely just die from the grief.

His grim smile widened and wondered how his precious was going to respond to their new situation.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Morning came too soon, and Kieran opened his eyes to find mismatched ones looking up at him in amusement. His still half-asleep mind was seconds away from ignoring the fact that it was Erin who he was presently curled around when it snapped to attention and he took a moment to collect his thoughts. He could clearly remember the revelation and promise from the evening before, and he must have stared at her too long, because the girl grew a bit uncomfortable.

He knew she was going to get out of the bed as soon as she rolled away from him, but he put his arms around her, holding her to his chest, pressing his face against her hair. "Erin, we have to talk," he said quietly. "There are things you have to understand."

He heard her swallow, but she thankfully didn't roll over to look at him. "Kieran, let me go," she said, her voice a bit weak.

"You won't run?"

He felt her stiffen in shock and then she shifted, hitting him in the shoulder as best she could from her current position. "Don't be an idiot," she snapped and he smiled, releasing her. She stood, straightening her rumpled clothing. She wasn't looking at him, as if she'd read something in his eyes and wasn't certain what to make of it.

He sat, bracing his elbows on his knees and running a hand through his hair. He wasn't certain how to explain everything that he had to. He wasn't accustomed to having to explain himself. After a long moment, he stood, beginning to pace. She must have felt his agitation, because she was watching him out of the corner of her eyes and he could see something he'd almost call concern. It made him want to laugh. "Erin, what do you think is going to happen to you when we get to my father's court," he asked finally, leaning back against the window and looking at her.

She blinked, looking at him fully, a frown on her lips. "I guess I'll be ransomed for my father's kingdom..." her voice trailed off as she stared at him and he wondered if she didn't read a little of his despair.

"No," he said softly. "My family does not kidnap and ransom. The way that my father took over other kingdoms was to take their heir and kill them, inciting war. He usually won. He's acquired a great deal of power that way, and when Oberon took notice, it was because my father wasn't really satisfied with the Unseelie courts any longer. The Goblin King also acts as Oberon's chief strategist, and he led his army against my father's. My brothers and mother all died in that attack. My father has wanted revenge for the loss of his own true heir ever since."

She was moving towards him, eyes wide, innocent. "He means to kill me? To try to take over?"

He nodded, lifting his face. "Want to run now?"

Her lips were pulled into a little frown and she stopped, looking up into his face. She'd always seemed so small, so frail to him. Mortals were delicate, short lived creatures, so while he'd noticed the backbone, he'd always likened it to her fae heritage. Now he was seeing something else, a sort of stubbornness that was unrecognizable. Her small fist balled up and she punched his shoulder again, this time hard enough to hurt. "I thought I told you not to be an idiot!"

He stared at her, and then gave a faint chuckle. "So what do you want to do, kid? If we go forward to my father's kingdom, you'll be killed. I...I want to protect you, but I've no idea how to do that."

She pursed her lips, pondering. Then, her eyes widened and she looked up at him. "You're offering to let me go?"

He nodded, seeing the stunned look on her face was somewhat refreshing. Her eyes were so wide, and her lips were just a little parted. "I'm giving you the chance to escape. To run to your parents, to survive."

That obstinate look again. "What would happen to you?"

"That doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head. Another fist to the shoulder and he was pretty sure that this time, she left a bruise. "Damn it, kid, stop that!"

She grabbed his shirt, looking him in the eye, a fierce look in her own. "If I run, and you go back to your father empty handed, what happens to you?"

He gave a shrug, a grim smile. "I'll be executed, of course. Small price, it's been a half-life for me, anyways."

"It's not a small price to me," she said evenly, and he sobered, looking down at her. "Kieran, you're the best friend I've ever had. You kidnapped me, you aren't always very nice, but you've protected me, made sure I had food, bought me clothes and stuff. You laughed and joked with me."

"Erin-"

"My life, my choice," she said evenly. "We're both clever, so between the two of us, there has to be a way to convince him not to kill me." She began to pace, a frown on her cheeks, her wild hair falling around her face since it was free of the clip.

He rubbed his forehead, knowing she was right. It was her choice, and there should be a way to spare her life, while convincing his father-

He focused on her, keeping his mouth shut. He knew a way. He just couldn't tell her yet. Her reaction would be crucial. Her anger, her outrage. He couldn't tell her until after he'd sprung the trap, himself. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he looked at her once again. "Erin, do you trust me?"

She lifted her face, looking up at him in surprise. Then, her mouth split into a mischievous smile and she gave him a nod. "Yeah," she said. "I do."


	8. Chapter 7

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Seven

It wasn't a castle like Erin had pictured. Then again, her view of castles was probably a bit skewed from the time she went to Europe with her mother. This was more like a large manor, and the courtyard was littered with drunk, dirty men who looked to her like soldiers who had seen better days.

Kieran walked behind her, holding another tether that was wrapped around her hands, binding them behind her. He hadn't spoken much since they'd left the last town, looking rather unhappy, irritable, not to mention downright pissy some of the time. She would have found the situation funny if they'd actually come up with some form of plan the evening before.

Yet they hadn't. She also had the nagging suspicion that Kieran was keeping something from her. There was something close to desperation on his face and she wanted to give him some kind of comfort, any kind, however, she could not do that now. Not before the leering eyes of the men who were in the courtyard.

It took forever to cross it. She couldn't deny the discomfort of all those eyes staring at her as they moved. The distance between herself and Kieran wasn't helping matters, and she found herself starting to shake a little. She felt the hand on her shoulders give a gentle squeeze.

The doors to the manor were opened before them and she was pushed into the large, open, main room. Kieran's hand lingered on her back for just a moment and she swallowed. She gasped aloud, fighting against the bindings.

The room was plain, the throne wasn't so much that as a roughly carved chair larger than the others in the room. The man upon it did not share Kieran's good looks, and there was a hint of madness in the hazel eyes that which were looking down upon her with hatred. She shuddered, hanging back, wishing Kieran would slow down, give her a chance to find her backbone again.

"So, you were successful? You've brought me Sarah Williams?"

She heard Kieran swallow and winced as he forced her to her knees. "No, I found something better than Sarah Williams when I went above, something that will drive the king of the goblins insane to lose."

The king was on his feet, furious. "You dare to show your face before me after failing?"

Kieran stood over her and she saw his hand trembling a bit. "I did not fail! I bring you the daughter of the bastard king! Before you is Erin Williams, the daughter of Sarah, the Labyrinth's conqueror, and Jareth, King of the Goblins!" He thrust out a hand, pointing at the old man. "Do not accuse me of failure, you senile old bastard! I am the only son you have left, and that makes me your heir, regardless of the tasteless tasks you set before me!"

She heard the upset in his voice, recognizing that he was hurt that his father didn't love him. There had been no welcome, just intense interest in mission, the desire to complete it.

There was silence. "A daughter," went up the whisper, several people leaning back and forth.

"That is impossible," sneered one member of the court. "It is well known that the mortal champion has not returned to the Underground, and Jareth has spent countless years hidden away within his city, not traversing to the above to even pick up a wished away child."

"After your failure during the war, why should we believe you? You're just a broken little tool who can't even assassinate a young fool king like Jareth."

Erin was on her feet before Kieran could stop her. "Impossible you say? Impossible, tra la la? Oh, how is it possible that this little mortal _girl_ could be the daughter of the _Goblin King_." She inclined her head to the side and gave a faint smile. Her hands still bound, she rolled one, a crystal suddenly sitting upon her palm. She rocked her hand and it rolled up to the tips of her fingers and she looked over it at the king before her.

She could feel even Kieran's shock and she bared her teeth in a snarl, and then threw the crystal at the ground, letting it shatter into millions of pieces. "You don't know a thing. You don't know me and you certainly don't know my mother." She leaned forward, ignoring Kieran for the moment. "Let's say your pet prince had kidnapped my mother," she said, inclining her head to the side. "She's a fully grown woman, and she defeated the Labyrinth. Do you really think that this little _boy_ would have been able to keep his hands on her?"

There was silence as she stood there, panting for breath, both angry and terrified. She felt a hand hit the side of her face and went to the ground, staring up at Kieran in shock. The strength of the blow had knocked her to the floor, and Kieran stood over her, his face difficult to read. He wasn't looking at her and she felt the first fear slice through her. He was betraying her – betraying her friendship. She snarled up at him. "Prick!"

There was suddenly laughter from the man beside the throne. Everyone looked towards the standing there, and Erin saw a glint in those eyes that spoke of madness. "A mouth like that, I'll have to believe you. It reminds me of listening to that toy king. Perhaps you're dream borne. That would explain how the bastard managed to have a child without become a King Fisher." He turned to his son. "You've done well, Kieran..." The sound of metal leaving wood, and she whirled, finding the king had drawn a knife that was strapped to his belt and fear filled her. "With her blood, we will incite war with the Goblin Kingdom, and he will be so grieved by the loss of his daughter, it will be an easy victory."

The man was tall, taller than Kieran. He knelt, his hand curling into her hair, jerking her head upright, baring her throat, and she felt cold steel against her throat and she swallowed hard. The blade dug into her skin a bit and the tang of blood filled the air. Her eyes met Kieran's, in time to see him grab his father's wrist and wrench it away.

"Are you insane?" Kieran snapped. "More than half of your fighting force was destroyed during the last war with the Goblin King!"

The man's eyes turned wild with fury. "You'll fight me on this!"

"I'll fight you on destroying what is left of your kingdom, yes!" Kieran wasn't looking at her, but she didn't have time to worry about that. Tears were coming to her eyes, and her entire body was shaking with fear. "If we kill her, we will not just cause grief, we will cause rage, and the Goblin King will destroy us."

Those eyes, tinged with madness grew more lucid and the old man looked up at him, clear-eyed for the first time since Erin had seen him. "You have an idea."

Kieran gave a smile that seemed cruel, but to Erin it looked sick. Nauseous. "A hostage is useless when they're dead. How far will the Goblin King go to keep his dear little girl safe? Of course, to convince the courts that she's a guest and not a hostage, we will have to hide her purpose behind something else."

The king's eyes flashed, glancing towards her. "I could make her my new wife. That would sicken the Goblin King well enough..."

"No," Kieran said, his voice sounding calm. "She is too young to provide healthy offspring, and it would look to the courts like the revenge it is. Give her to me as a bride. With this, if Jareth does try to retaliate against them, the council will be on our side this time, because we are within the terms of the surrender. They will prevent Jareth from moving against us." he still wasn't looking at her, but she felt horror grabbing her.

What the hell was he doing?

"I won't marry either of you! I'd sooner die!"

A slashing look from the man she'd thought was her friend silenced her and she swallowed fear, realizing that she'd played right into his hands. "I hate you," she whispered, feeling a sharp pain in her chest. "I hate you."

The older man laughed and released her, tossing her to the ground. "Very well, son. It looks like we were wrong about you all this time. You'll make a fine king yet. We can't hold an official ceremony yet, but you can take care of the little details by yourself, right?"

"Of course. I've got enough experience to deflower a child," he scoffed, and Erin felt his hands jerk at the tether, pulling her to her feet in the most painful way he could. The pretense of the gentle friend was gone and she found that the pain in her chest was almost debilitating. It felt like she'd suffered a wound to her spirit, to her very soul and tears were falling down her face.

They reached a door and Kieran opened it, his hand curling in her hair as he heaved her inside. She hit the floor and lay there on her side, hating him, hating herself for trusting him. The sound of the door closing was ominous and she heard the sound of a lock clicking into place. She lifted her head, about to scream obscenities at the man, but he looked tired and beaten. It shocked her enough that she wasn't able to speak.

Her friend stood there once again, his face worn and weary and hurting. His eyes fell upon her and he quickly looked away, moving around the dark room, lighting candles, closing the heavy velvet drapes. When that was done, he came towards her.

When he was in striking distance, she kicked him in the shin, pleased when he swore in pain, going to his knee. He grumbled something she couldn't hear, tussling with her on the ground, trying to pin her and she fought back until she smacked her head against the floor and with a startled cry she went limp. When she went relaxed, Kieran sat up, a hand going through his disheveled hair.

He didn't touch her further, didn't move towards her, he was just sitting beside her on the floor, his hand thrust into his hair, his head lowered. "I figured you were going to be pissed off about this solution," he said softly. "It was the only way I could think to protect you from him, though. If you were just a hostage, you'd be in the dungeon and the guards would probably rape you."

She stared at him, wide-eyed. "You had a plan? This whole time, the past three days since you told me what was going to happen to me, you've had a plan? Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

He sighed, lifting his head finally, looking as hurt as she felt. "I couldn't. Your reaction would be crucial. I needed you to be so angry that you'd fight against me. I needed you to hate me, or I couldn't protect you."

She sighed, exasperated. "I could have faked it! I mean, my mother was a better-than-average actress, and heaven knows I've manipulated her since I was old enough to know what I was doing-"

He turned towards her, his face irritated. "My father is insane now, but he is still ruthless and can smell a lie. A faked reaction would not have worked, even if it was well-acted." Her jaw dropped and she scooted towards him, setting her bound hands on his arm. "They're hungry for blood. They won't care much how it's gotten, or whether it's your life or your innocence that is taken. I'm just...relieved that he isn't so lost in the madness to not listen to me..."

Erin looked at Kieran in the face and said bluntly. "Kieran, I like you, but your father is one creepy piece of work."

Kieran looked startled at that for a moment, then his head fell back and he laughed, long and hard. "That he is, kid. That he is." After a moment, he stood, moving towards a dark corner of the room. He opened a small door, reaching within. When he withdrew his hand, in it was a small, black bird. He hastily grabbed a paper and a quill from the desk in front of the window and Erin watched him scribble something on the paper.

"This is one of my friends," he said quietly. "They act as carrier birds, taking messages to and from whoever I need." He rolled the paper, slipping it into a small tube that was around the bird's ankle. He opened the window and gripped bird gently between his hands. "Take this to the Goblin King," he said, then released it.

Surprise caught her, and she lifted her face, looking at the man. "What did you write?"

He paced a bit, his hand at his temple. "A message to say that you are under my protection and that I will keep you safe."

Erin stood, moving towards him. "Can you untie me?"

He looked at her in regret. "You're going to have to pretend that I raped you, you realize?"

She gave him a biting grin. "Just keep in mind that I'm a fighter, prince," she said, keeping her voice on the friendly side of mocking. "So if you don't mind a bit of pain, we can have the whole complex convinced that you're raping me."

He looked mildly ill, but he smiled regardless. "Just don't kick my balls to your father's kingdom, alright? I like them where they are."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah followed Jareth cautiously. They'd crossed over the border the day prior, and Jareth had gotten a little irritable since then. He'd explained that unlike the ones they were tracking, who were in safe territory, he was unable to go into the towns, which was where they needed to go. Hence they'd been keeping rather heavily to the trees.

During the evenings, pretense of anger had been let go, and Jareth would hold her in his lap as he dozed, apparently ignorant to her musings, of her watching his beloved sleeping face. They were both looking rather worse for wear at this point. Jareth had dirt smudges on his face, and his hair was more wild than normal. "We should be gaining on them, right?"

Jareth sighed heavily, looking towards her. "Sarah, they're able to take the clear roads, the fast routes back to that kingdom. I cannot. You know this."

"But if that other king gets his hands on her..." Sarah wrung her hands out, tense with worry for her daughter. Two hands rest gently on her shoulders and she looked up into Jareth's face. "I can't lose her. She's been all I've had for so long..."

He kissed her forehead tenderly. "Worry not, darling. They may not plan to kill her. Likely they'll use her as some sort of hostage. They wouldn't want to directly start a war with me again. I would lay waste to their land, and I'd take their king's head myself. That idiot boy must know that. He will do what he has to do to protect his kingdom. Part of that will mean keeping her alive."

She shuddered. "She's just a kid, Jareth. What if she gets..."

"There is nothing we can do from here to stop it. All we can do is try to get her away from them as quickly as possible-" His eyes lifted skyward and a raven landed upon his arm. They both stared at the bird for a long moment and the bird simply stared at Jareth from its black eyes. It fluttered its wings and shifted its feet, which is what drew her attention to the tube on its ankle.

"Jareth! On its leg!" She swallowed hard as his eyes dropped towards it and his hand lifted to open the tube.

"Carrier raven, is it?" Jareth frowned at the musing, pulling a small piece of paper from the tube and unrolling it. The bird immediately took off, its message delivered, disappearing among the canopy. Jareth stared down at the paper, a baffled expression on his face. "Erin is safe, I'll protect her...?"

"What?" Sarah walked over, taking the paper he had in a loose grip, reading it. That indeed was all it said, although there was a sharp, angled 'K' signed at the bottom as well. She lifted her gaze, looking at the man, just as perplexed as he was until she saw understanding dawn upon his face.

His head tilted back and he started laughing. "Oh, she _is_ your daughter, isn't she?" He wrapped his arms around her and Sarah felt the uncomfortable sensation of being crushed and when she was released, they were standing in the throne room at the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.

"Jareth! What are you doing?" Sarah pulled away from him, looking up at him, baffled and confused.

He pointed at the letter. "That boy, the kidnapper? His name is Prince Kieran, and his other form is a raven. That carrier raven was from him." He laughed aloud, wrapping his arms around her waist and spinning her about. "Don't you see, dear? Your daughter has developed that amazing ability of yours to wrap royal fae males around her little finger." He kissed her soundly, setting her on the ground and springing away from her.

"How do you know he's not just lying?"

Jareth paused, looking towards her. "Darling, if he was lying, he wouldn't have hastily scribbled this on a love note from his last lover," he said, turning it in her hand. "It has the subtle scent of rose hips. A bit tasteless if you ask me."

Sarah arched a brow at him. "Are you referring to the scent or writing this on a love note?"

He broke into a broad grin. "I was referring to her sending him one, actually. It doesn't kill a youth to make them work for it." He took the note from her hand and flipped it over, reading it. "Oh, how cliché..." he mumbled as he moved towards the large throne she'd somehow missed her first time in the castle.

"Jareth! Just because she's safe _now_, doesn't mean she'll stay that way! Why aren't we still going for her?"

"Because, darling, if we go into that kingdom, it will put you as well as Erin in danger. If his family should find out that he's betrayed them, they will kill him, and us going there would only compound this. We can only bide our time until Kieran is ready to smuggle her out."

"How can you know that?" She paced, frustrated with the male that – for some reason that she couldn't always fathom – she was in love with.

He sighed, sprawling into the throne, the hand with his letter dropping to his lap. His face was exasperated, and she could tell he was trying to be patient with her. Good, she was trying to be patient as well. "Because, love, he obviously wants to protect her, so when his family finds out that he's protecting her, rather than harming her, he'll be forced to run, and in order to protect her, he'll bring her with him."

She sighed, moving towards him again deciding to let the topic drop. She eyed the throne he was draped across, arching a brow. "Speaking of tasteless...are you going to have a matching throne made for your queen? Because if you are, you might want to feminize it a bit..."

When she looked at him, he was arching an eyebrow. "You mean you don't like it?" There was a pouting tone in his voice that caused her to almost smirk.

"No, I can't say I do," she said, tilting her head to the side a bit.

He leaned forward on his elbows, a light in his eyes. "You can't rightly say that until you've taken it for a...test drive, so to speak."

She snorted at his phrasing, and walked towards him, her eyes challenging him. "Very well, highness," she allowed. "Let's test it out-"

As soon as she was close enough to grab, he pulled her into his lap, smirking wickedly. She let out an indignant shriek that sent the nearest goblins running for cover, and immediately began to struggle.

"Now, now, precious," he chastised lightly. "In order to properly test out the throne, you must do it from the lap of the ruling monarch. I'm afraid _that's_ a rule." She barely heard him in her ire, her wiggles not really getting the desired response. She didn't really want to hit him, but she wasn't certain he'd give her a choice. "Dearest, your struggling – while futile – is about to make your seat much less comfortable," he said wryly.

She froze instantly, turning slowly to look at him, heat suffusing her cheeks. The bastard just sat there and smiled at her. After a moment, he shifted, freeing one hand and tapping her chin.

Her jaw clacked shut.

He sighed softly, his arms wrapping around her as he leaned back in the throne, his hands adjusting her to increase his own comfort, putting her on one thigh, her legs thrown across his lap, her head tucked against his shoulder. "I suppose a word of good will from one side deserves the same from the other..." He rolled his hand, a crystal appearing on his fingertips. Sarah watched as he lifted it to his lips, and blew it.

It turned into a bubble, floating on the air and she watched, mesmerized.

After a long moment, Jareth said quietly. "It is not very kind of you to go tossing the word queen about when you know my feelings for you."

She blinked, and then glanced towards him, suddenly nervous. "Jareth..."

He looked towards her from the corner of his eyes, a small frown on his lips. "I suppose I haven't asked since you've been back. I won't go into the speech I gave last time I asked, but I need you to understand that if you want to be with me even a little, I will accept you and our daughter with open arms and no hesitation."

Her heart fluttered and she looked into his feral, mismatched eyes, her heart aching. "And if Erin wasn't your daughter? Would you have accepted her then?"

He looked at her as if she were daft. "Darling, the child would have been yours regardless. I'm old enough to know that I cannot ask a woman with a child to be mine and expect her daughter to stay behind. I would have more than accepted her; I would loved her like she were my own as well." He gave her a rueful smile. "It's a professional hazard to be fond of children," he confided.

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against his. "I don't know, Jareth...I just don't know. Can you...wait until we have Erin back? I'm afraid I'm going to be pretty useless until then..."

He inclined his face, kissing her lips lightly. "Consider it done, darling. But I expect an answer, yes or no, even if you decide to leave. Give me that much respect."

She swallowed hard. "I will," she promised, kissing him back just as lightly, to seal her promise.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

He'd done all he could, Kieran decided, standing by the window and letting the raven land upon his arm. He stroked its head gently, half-ignoring the girl that slept in his bed. After staging the rape, he'd gone to eat and collect a plate of food for Erin. They'd kept her plate sparse, as if to say that she wasn't worth feeding, so he had them fill a second plate for himself and returned to the room, setting the full plate in front of her and snacking upon the rest.

He'd learned in that first town that she had a voracious appetite, one that would make all humans and most fae grow overweight. Yet this kid was still wraith thin and looking hungrily at his plate when her own was clean. He chuckled softly, glancing towards her.

It was good that he'd done the staging before he'd gone to get food, because after he'd left, a servant entered to clean up the mess. Erin was quite the little actress, lying in the corner, trembling. When he'd come back after receiving both praise from the court and dirty looks from the servants, Erin stood in front of his wardrobe, digging through it for a new shirt. The wounds she insisted he inflict were already faded to ugly yellow.

The only reason he wasn't still beating himself up about the wounds was because he had several bruises of his own fading on his ribs and shoulders, where she accidentally struck out at him in retaliation. He rubbed one of the fading bruises and smiled ruefully. The court was in for a nasty surprise. After all, Erin certainly packed a nasty punch.

Silently, he put the raven back in the coop, then moved towards the bed, sitting on the edge. A few of the maids had brought in suitable female attire and it had been obviously discarded in a pile in favor for the shirt she'd retrieved from his wardrobe, and he could see the white shoulder reached midway down her arm. He couldn't help but wonder how she was going to react about the planned 'wedding' that his father was currently arranging.

This girl; who hated skirts, who swore like a sailor, who knew how to throw a better punch than some men – this girl – was going to have to attend a ball, wearing one of those large, poofy concoctions that women here seemed to favor. He didn't really have to wonder. He'd seen firsthand how she would react to such a thing. Gently he pet her hair, looking down at her young face.

She stirred a bit, yawned, and then rolled towards him. "Kieran," came her sleepy murmur. Her mismatched eyes opened and she looked up at him. "Did Wes come back?"

He frowned. "Wes?"

"The raven. I named him Wesley."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Yes, he returned. The note is gone. I only hope that your father has faith in me. He doesn't really have any reason to." He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as he caught a tangle from so long in the wild. He lay back on the bed beside her, one hand pillowing his head as he looked towards her.

She must have seen something in his eyes, because she suddenly looked wary. She pulled the blankets up to her chin, looking at him, a bit nervous and uncomfortable. "Kieran," she said after a long moment. "Why did you help me?"

He blinked, surprised at the question. He stared at her, and he pushed a hand into his hair. He could tell her the honest answer – that he'd probably fallen in love with her the second he'd set eyes upon her – but then the wariness in her eyes would only increase. He was much older than her, and he doubted she would understand that this blindsided him. With a huff, he reached over, ruffling her hair. "Hell if I know, kid," he fibbed, then closed his eyes. "Go back to sleep, Erin."

He could feel her staring at him for awhile, before she shifted closer, pressing her face against his side, burrowing in. He shuddered – _shuddered_ – and gently put his arms around her, taking comfort in her presence at his side. She didn't say anything else, but he knew she was awake. He could feel the side of his shirt growing damp where her face was pressed against it and he knew she was crying silently.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. Her hand curled into a fist in his shirt and he rolled over, drawing her against his chest. "Please, don't cry."

"I'm not crying," she lied.

"Right," he countered, resting his chin on her head. "It'll be okay, Erin. I'll protect you. And somehow, I'll get you back to your mom." He sighed heavily, closing his eyes. "Don't worry about a thing."

She nodded, and continued pretending not to cry until she fell asleep once again.

He sighed when she finally relaxed and stroked her hair gently. Even someone as strong as Erin would crack eventually. If crying was how she needed to unload the stress, then he would let her cry on his shoulder every night so that she'd be strong enough to make it through the next day. At least until he figured out how to get them both out of there.


	9. Chapter 8

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Eight

It was midday when the messenger came to the Goblin Kingdom and found Jareth sitting upon his throne with Sarah upon his lap, flirting with her mercilessly even as the man came through the door. The goblins instantly went silent, although Jareth and Sarah's mild argument did not end.

"Jareth, this really has to stop," Sarah complained, still trying to extract herself from his lap.

"No, no, my dear. It doesn't." He was laughing, couldn't help laughing, even as he noticed the man slink into the room, unannounced. "You'd do well to sit still, my dear. It appears we have company." He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes as she shot to attention, her eyes falling upon the messenger as well. Instantly, she was no longer an awkward mortal woman in the lap of a fae. Suddenly she was a queen upon a throne, and she managed it from his lap – an admirable feat in itself.

"I bring a message from King Bram." The poor messenger was trembling, terrified, as if aware that his life was in grave danger.

Jareth rested his head upon Sarah's shoulder, smiling in amusement. "Oh, do you?" He felt Sarah relax a bit into him. He knew she was relieved that they were getting some form of news now that they weren't on her daughter's trail anymore.

The messenger was trembling as he unrolled the scroll. "Lord Bram wishes to invite King Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom to a ball to be held in honor of his remaining son, Prince Kieran, who has taken a bride." The trembling was even worse now.

Jareth sat back, tapping his chin with a thumb. "Isn't Prince Kieran a bit young to think about getting married," he mused aloud. "And just who is the...lucky bride?"

The messenger's shaking grew worse, telling him that he fully expected to die for his answer. "Prince Kieran is honored to receive Lady Erin Williams, daughter of the Labyrinth's Champion, as his bride."

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath and he felt the tension return to her. Jareth wrapped his arms around her, setting a hand gently upon her stomach. "Just relax, precious. If you grow tense, they'll know who you are and the messenger will report your presence to Bram," he warned softly, so that only she'd hear him. As requested, she sank into his touch, closing her eyes and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"What are we going to do," she whispered back.

He laughed, standing and setting Sarah into the throne, leaning over her for a moment. "We're going to get into that little party and see what we can do from there." He straightened, moving towards the messenger, his hand extended. "Very well, extend my deepest thanks for the invitation. I know our kingdoms have not always been cordial with each other. I do hope that this is a step towards...friendship and not one of war."

The young man looked like he was about to piss himself and the goblins were snickering now. When the envelope was placed in Jareth's hand, his other gripped the messenger's wrist. "Do give Bram my best, won't you?" He smiled broadly, revealing each and every sharp, pointed tooth.

The man trembled, nodding sharply, and then pulled free of his grip, running from the throne room. The goblins laughed, sounding slightly malicious as they gave chase, just as far as the throne room doors. Jareth watched the man run, his lips pulling into a faint frown. Finally, when Sarah's hand touched his, he tore his gaze away, seeing tension on her face. "Alright, love, let's go see what this is all about," he said, taking her hand and leading her to a drawing room that was off the side of the throne room. He sat in a chair and with the wave of his hand, a letter opener sat on it.

He split the short end of the envelope, drawing out the invitation with a deep frown. "The boy certainly is clever," he muttered, sitting in a chair and crossing an ankle to rest on the opposite knee. He tapped his cheekbone a few times with a finger as he read and reread the invitation before handing it to Sarah.

"I don't understand," Sarah said quietly. "Why is he marrying Erin? She's just a child."

He gave her a wry look. "This might traumatize your sensibilities, but Erin would be considered proper marrying age here, not...I believe your above ground term is 'jail-bait'. If she'd grown up here, it would have been fifty or sixty years for her to mature to this age physically, but in the above, mortals mature much faster, so physically, she is old enough. Mentally..." he shrugged. "Regardless, once they arrived at his father's home, something happened where she was put in danger, and likely that boy talked them out of harming her with this."

She frowned faintly, looking at him. "How is _this_ not harming her?"

He sighed patiently, looking at her. "Don't be obtuse, my dear. This way, his father cannot harm her and she is protected from being raped or worse by the guards. She would be sleeping in his quarters, would be at his side most of the time." He saw understanding dawn upon her face and gave her a tight smile. "Although I doubt the servants are pleased with him."

Sarah leaned forward, touching his hand gently. "Jareth, what are we going to do?"

He lifted his gaze, giving her a broad smile. "Well, love, it looks like we're going to a ball. So I suppose we're going to be getting fitted for suitable clothing."

She thought about that and winced. "Oh, dear...Erin is _not_ going to be happy about that..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"_WHAT THE HELL_?"

Kieran winced, glancing towards the door as Erin bolted into the room, slamming the door shut behind her. Her hair, which was usually shoulder length was now hanging down her back and she had a lovely green dress on. He could still see the shining pins sticking out.

Her young, freckled face was dark red, however he wasn't certain if that was from fury or from embarrassment. Knowing her it could have been either.

Unfortunately, now was a really bad time for her to show everyone that she had a temper. "Is there a problem, Erin," he asked calmly, sipping his tea, ignoring the other men who were in the room discussing politics, war, and the possibility of defeating the Goblin King.

She hesitated, taking view of the room, of all the men who were suddenly staring down their noses at her. She drew herself to her full height, which was rather impressive for a twelve year old, and moved primly towards him. "Lord Kieran, may I have a moment to speak to you?" Her mismatched eyes flicked towards the others in the room. "Alone?" When those eyes met his, there was nothing prim or demure in them. Damn. She really _was_ a good actress.

He leaned back in his chair, inclining his head to the side. "I thought you were being fitted for some clothes." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and smirking up at her. He practically watched her temper flare, wondering how long she'd be able to keep up her little act.

"That, prince, is the problem." Her tone was biting. She lifted her face and gave the other men a dazzling smile and he felt a surge of jealousy that he refused to admit to. "You all wouldn't mind, would you? It'll just take a minute."

Those men, who were some of the most brilliant minds in his father's kingdom, nodded dumbly and began to file out of the room, now talking once again about whatever they'd been talking about before, although the conversations were now sprinkled with comments about the prince's 'lovely bride'. Once the door was shut behind the last of them, he tipped out of his chair, falling to the floor, laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile, as he did, Erin simply stood there, examining her nails, waiting for his bout with laughter to end. Once it finally died down to the occasional hiccup and snort, he was able to pull himself back into his seat and offer his hands to her. "Well, you certainly can turn on the charm when you wish, can't you?"

She gave him a wry look. "I did mention that I was able to manipulate my mother if I wanted, didn't I?" She sat in the chair across from him and he had to fight the urge to start laughing again as she pulled her legs up into the chair, crossing them in 'Indian-style'. "Prince, do you know what this dress is made out of?"

"I can't say I do," he offered, noting the formal 'prince', instead of his name. It was probably prudent of her. As if this was just a part she was playing, and these were her choreographed lines.

"I do. This is made out of taffeta. I hate taffeta. I like cotton. I like wool. I like denim and leather. Those are durable fabrics that have usefulness. I do not see the use in taffeta." She paused for a long moment. "You also know how I feel about the usefulness of dresses, and let me assure you, that I view this sort of dress to be the most useless sort."

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair and looking at her carefully. "You want me to explain just how lucky you are to be wearing that dress right now?" He stood, offering her his hand. "Come with me, Erin." Her lips pursed and she set her hand upon his own, letting him pull her to her feet. He walked her over towards a mirror, setting her in front of it. He stood behind her, his hands on her partially bare shoulders.

Erin stared blankly into the mirror. "I don't understand."

He rested his chin on her head, giving her an amused smile. "This dress accentuates the fact that you've got a narrow waist, shows the beginning of the curves you'll have as a woman, and the color flatters your skin and hair. It shows that you are a lady, not an urchin, and let me assure you, little one," he met her gaze in the mirror and saw surprise within it. "If not for the fact that you're wearing this dress, you would have never cleared this room of men."

Her cheeks were softly flushed pink, her eyes were wide in shock, and there was something else in her expression that he couldn't quite read. Suddenly, her eyes were torn from him and the mirror, her hair shielding her face. The mouthy, bratty Erin Williams was embarrassed, and she looked shockingly shy and vulnerable.

With a sigh, he leaned down, brushing his lips across her temple, to her cheekbone, letting them linger there for a long moment. Her cheek felt hot under his lips and when he opened his eyes, he saw her own were open wide, and her face was turning darker red. So she wouldn't see the blush and respond with temper or awkwardness, he steered her away from the mirror, towards the door. "Come along, I'll escort you back to the poor ladies you probably terrified." He chuckled softly, but it felt forced. "If you're that against wearing dresses, I'll retain your trousers and shirt. I would even go as far as recommend you wear those trousers beneath your dresses. As an added layer of protection," he said quietly.

She glanced back at him and her face was still slightly pink. "Kieran, what did they do to my hair?" The question was mumbled. "It was short this morning..."

He chuckled, giving her shoulders a squeeze. "They probably bespelled it so that they'd have something to work with. You don't need to worry about it. It looks cute."

She didn't answer and her gaze returned in front of her. "I saw a messenger leave this morning."

He glanced towards her, hearing the question and sighed, knowing the blushing girl was replaced with the urchin he knew. "Yes," he agreed. "Father sent out invitations to all of the neighboring kingdoms to a ball in our honor," he scoffed at the ending there.

"Do...do you think father will come?"

He stopped in the hallway, turning her towards him. Gently, he slipped a hand beneath her chin, forcing her face up. He gave her a faint smile. "I'm not good enough company, Princess?"

She snorted. "You know what I mean."

He nodded, sobering. "I guess I do," he allowed, then continued, "and yes, I think he will come."

She nodded in acceptance, her defiant eyes not leaving his own. He finished walking her down the hall to the open door where dress-makers were pacing restlessly, looking worried. When they saw him, they squeaked in surprise. Gently, he propelled her into the room. "I don't think she'll give you fine ladies any more trouble," he said, shooting them a winning smile.

He might have been crazy, but he could have sworn he'd seen a flash of jealousy in mismatched eyes before she was swept back into the storm of movement that was her fitting, and he left the room, a faint smirk on his face.

Rather than returning to the drawing room, he returned to his own room, flinging himself upon the bed. His hand pillowed beneath his head and he stared at the canopy hanging over him. What the hell he was doing? He set his other hand over his eyes- flirting with a child who wasn't even ready for a relationship, and likely wouldn't be for a great number of years.

Though, he'd probably be dead before then... 

He huffed, and heard some strange tinkling music and his eyes opened, finding a small bubble-like globe floating through his window. It moved towards him and when he put his hand down, it burst, and an envelope dropped into his hand. He frowned faintly at it, his brow arching and he shrugged, pulling a small knife from beneath his pillow and sliced open the side of the envelope.

The script was a scrawling one, yet easily read. "Lord Kieran, my Sarah and I appreciate your intervention on our daughter's behalf. I imagine that by now she's turning you inside out. I should know, her mother is the same way… that aside, if you set a hand on my daughter, I'll break them both, just to prevent it happening again.

Your future father-in-law, Jareth, King of the Goblins."

He blinked, read the letter again, and put a hand over his mouth to smother his laughter. "Their whole family is insane," he muttered, shaking his head and sighing as he lay back on the bed. He opened his drawer, setting the letter inside it and locking it shut. No one would be getting that letter. He would let Erin read it when her fitting was done. It was a risk. Of course it was. Anyone in this kingdom could use that as incriminating evidence that he was on the side of the Goblin King.

In truth, he was on the side of other sovereign. They both wanted to protect Erin, so that made them shaky allies for that reason alone. Yet, he was putting her in danger by keeping that damn letter. Stupid romantic intentions, he thought, swearing softly.

He closed his eyes and his humor now depleted. After Erin read it, he'd burn the damn thing.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah sighed as she stood there, and the seamstress moved swiftly around her, fast enough to make her head swim. "I don't understand why this is necessary, Jareth," she complained, her lips pulled into a tight frown.

"You want to verify with your own eyes that your daughter is safe, do you not?" Jareth was sprawled over a chair in the room, looking remarkably comfortable. She'd been sprawled in the exact same chair an hour ago, while he'd stood here, perfectly calm and unruffled as he'd been scrambled over, measured, poked, prodded, and had various colors and fabrics lay against him, to see what looked best against his coloring.

"Well, yes," she agreed, still frowning. "But what does that have to do with this?"

"In order to get close enough to your daughter for you to speak with her, we're going to attend that ball." He smirked at her. "Naturally, I have reasons of my own for wishing to go. For one, I would like to meet my daughter. I also would like to see that place with my own eyes and know for certain who is standing against me. And I admit, I'm rather interested to see how you clean up after all these years," he said and she knew he meant to distract her with that last bit.

She frowned faintly, refusing to be distracted, even as the woman turned her forcefully and began measuring along one of her arms. "Wouldn't it be Bram?"

He looked irritated that she didn't change the topic. "Yes, but he is not necessarily the whole of the problem. There are rumors that his once brilliant mind has grown a bit dull, and that he's slipped deeper into his madness. It might be due to loss. The fae tend to take things like that rather poorly." Those eyes lifted, pinning her. "From what I've heard, he not only lost his lover, he's also lost his queen. Shortly after her death, he lost his seventh son – who would have been his next heir – to some manner of illness. He's steps away from becoming a Fisher King, and it would only require one final push to make it happen."

"Fisher King?" She frowned at the term. "You mean like from Arthurian mythos, with the grail cup?"

His eyes moved towards her and he frowned faintly. "My dear, that is a term that has been around longer than the story of the Grail. What I mean the male equivalent to a bean sidhe. A banshee. It happens when one of my kind goes...beyond saving. They're so lost in their madness that all they can do is warn others of coming disaster."

There was something in Jareth's eyes that caused her concern. "Jareth?"

"Typically the fae are not so attached to anything that this would happen. However, when we care about something a great deal, it becomes a hazard, so we protect things that we hold precious." He smiled, but didn't look at her. The silence between them went longer than she was comfortable with and she shifted, wondering what he wasn't telling her.

After that long silence, he focused upon her again. "So, why is it that you think Erin will be so unhappy with being fitted for new clothing?"

She gave him a painful smile. "Erin isn't fond of dresses or skirts. She has firm opinions about clothing, and the one time she had to get fitted for a dress she threw a temper tantrum that is legendary in my family to this day. Karen went as far as to say she made my puberty look like easy sailing, and even made me look like an angel." Sarah snorted. "It was bad. Very bad. I haven't gotten her to wear a dress since."

Jareth just tilted his head back and laugh. "Well, then, aren't you glad that you're not the one dealing with her this time?"

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

"Don't you think Prince Kieran has become much more...handsome since his return from the Above," one of the dressmakers asked another as they stuck pins in the waist of the blue dress they were now fitting on her. It looked like whether she wanted or not, she was going to end up with a collection of frilly dresses.

Erin blinked at the question, glancing towards the other seamstress, who sighed softly, a dreamy look in her eyes. "It's almost like he's grown up a bit." That one smiled, slipping another pin into the dress. "Before, he used to play around all the time, you remember. Now that he's finally recognized by the family, he seems much more responsible, and he's going to be a very desirable commodity now that he's officially the heir."

It crossed her mind that these two ninnies with pins were even more idiotic than she'd initially thought when they'd stuffed her in the green taffeta dress. "It's almost a pity that in order to be accepted into the family he has to marry a little child like this. She can't possibly appreciate the prince," the one hemming the blue silk said, giving her a disdainful look. "And it's not like he's not going to have plenty of ladies to fill his bed when he's feeling unappreciated."

Erin looked down at her, giving her a placid smile. "I assure you that I...appreciate the prince just fine and he rather likes how well I do," she taunted, making sure that her voice was as laced with insinuation as their own. Both gasped as though shocked, and they began stitching and pinning quicker. She was feeling moody and bitchier today than usual. She already was notorious for picking fights back home, but today she felt sharper, more mean, so their shock brought her a fierce kind of pleasure that felt almost like pain in her stomach.

"What can you expect from a slut that dresses like a man," a voice near the door scoffed and Erin looked towards it, finding a young man with dark hair and skin several shades more pale and sallow that Kieran's own. His eyes were muddy brown and filled with hate. She didn't know who this man was, but she could feel the rage emanating from him. The rage made her stomach churn and the pain grew worse.

"Oh, Lord Fachen, come to see what we can make of the foul-mouthed urchin?" The girls tittered their laughter behind their hands, reveling in their insults. "Supposing she dresses up well enough, is it true that the King is holding a ball to celebrate the consummation?"

The man called Fachen moved away from the door, his hand grabbing her chin as soon as he was close enough. "Indeed he is, ladies. A grand ball for a fake heir and a halfling princess. What a waste of funds. Then again it's just an excuse to piss on the foot of the Goblin King."

Erin kept her gaze on the face of the man. It was lucky for her that Kieran was twice the man that this little bastard was. He continued looking down at her and speaking as if she weren't even there, as if she were just some piece of jewelry or bit of porcelain that decorated a shelf. Her fury was quickly spiraling out of control and suddenly a sharp pain hit her gut. It startled her so badly that she crumpled, her hands covering her stomach.

Kieran must have been coming through the door just then because he was suddenly at her side and there was yelling all around her. "What did you do, Fachen!"

"I didn't do anything! I only touched her face!" The other voice, the one that had been so malicious was now laced with fear.

Hands touched her face, her hair, a touch she recognized. A smell met her nose and she opened her eyes to find gold ones looking down at her. The smell was unlike anything she'd ever smelled before, faintly musky, yet sweet. She felt him shift and he gripped her, lifting her off the ground. "You'd better not have harmed her, Fachen. If she is dead, then we all are. Don't forget that," he said and Erin shuddered, burrowing her face into Kieran's shoulder. The smell was stronger here and she suddenly realized she was smelling _him_, and it was a smell she'd never smelled before.

Ugh, what the hell. Now was a lousy time to go through puberty, she decided. It hurt a hell of a lot more than everyone always said it would, too. She'd felt fine moments ago – pissed off, but fine – so why did it hit her like a freight train?

The man holding her paused, and then began moving more swiftly towards the room they'd been sharing since she'd first arrived here. Once within, he set her down carefully and she noticed that the pinning had come loose and she still had a long string with a needle hanging from the hem. "Get the dress off, put on a shift. I'll see if I can get one of the servants in here to help you," he said, and then he was heading towards the door again.

"Kieran, what's happening to me," she asked, knowing she sounded a bit panicked. She didn't want him to leave while she was still scared, and she was only getting more so, because she could feel a hot moisture between her legs that didn't feel normal. She knew it had to be blood, she knew enough to know that, but this felt nothing like her mother had described. It felt like being stabbed repeatedly with an object that had an odd shape, so it didn't slice cleanly.

He turned towards her, and she blinked when his lips touched her forehead gently. "Just wait a minute, Erin. Change your clothes and wait. I'll be back." With that promise, he was out the door and down the hall before the door closed behind him again.

"How the hell am I supposed to get this dress off by myself?" she half-wailed. She looked down at the delicate silk and gave a huff of impatience, considering just ripping the fabric. But then she'd half to endure standing there for a whole extra dress to be pinned onto her, and she was _not_ going to be treated like a dress-up doll anymore, dammit, even if Kieran thought she looked pretty in them.

She blushed, ashamed to admit that he was the only reason she'd endured two days of being poked and prodded and measured and tweaked. When he'd held her in front of that mirror and told her that she had looked like a lady, instead of a child, it had made her feel beautiful for the first time and she'd liked that. A lot. Unfortunately, she'd had enough. She shimmied, managing to get half the buttons open before Kieran came in with a large, plump woman in a drab gray dress and an apron.

The woman's eyes focused on her and she breathed deeply, then she turned towards Kieran and waved him out. "Damn boy, get out of here. I'll deal with this." Then the door was pushed shut on the prince's stunned face.

"Huh, I thought I was the only one who made him look like that," she mused, seconds before another cramp made her groan and press her hands against her lower abdomen. "Goddammit, what the hell is wrong with me?"

The woman moved behind her, swiftly opening the buttons of her dress until it fell to the ground. Erin was horrified to find her petticoats turning red. "Just as I thought from the way the young master described your behavior. The young miss is now a young Lady." The woman helped her out of the rest of her clothes and helped her change into a shift and her trousers, then presented her several long strips of cotton.

"Shit," Erin muttered. "I always thought I'd be with my mom when this happened, so I'd be a little prepared...but this doesn't feel anything like she said it would, and I didn't expect it to hurt like this."

"First time always hurts for a fae," the woman told her, and then took her arms, walking her towards the bed and helping her sit. "Fold the strips and use them to absorb the blood. The first day or so, they'll likely need to be changed every hour or so." The woman sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her. "My name is Mab, by the way. I work here as a doctor for the servants."

"You know Kieran?"

The woman looked at her, her graying brows arching. "Well enough, or I thought I did. This mess with his father has changed him from the boy I knew."

"The dressmakers were commenting that he's gotten more attractive. He still looks like a matt-headed feather-head to me."

The woman stared at her for a long moment and then chuckled. "You get away with calling him that?"

She looked at the woman and arched an eyebrow. "I'd call it a prerequisite. We weren't very cordial to each other when we...met."

"When he kidnapped you," the woman's understanding gaze was suddenly dark and angry.

Erin shrugged. "Call it how you wish. I know a lot more of the story than you, and Kieran kept me safe during the trip here." She winced as another cramp hit, but this one wasn't as bad as the first.

The woman was giving her a queer look. "Well," she paused. "Try not to worry the boy too much," she said, then stood, moving towards the door. "Do you want to see him?"

"It's his room," Erin answered, getting comfortable, laying down on the bed and pulling the covers over herself.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran paced the halls, and everyone danced out of his way as soon as they saw him. Fachen, his greedy cousin, was quite lucky that he didn't run across him while Mab was looking Erin over. He might have punched the bastard again. He didn't know what was wrong with Erin, but her scent was changing and he could smell blood thick in his nose.

When Mab found him, he was prowling the kitchens, ignoring the dirty looks from the staff, munching on a cookie that was on the cookie tray. When he saw her, the cookie fell from limp fingers and he moved swiftly towards the older woman. "Is she okay?"

She looked at him, inclining her head. "I've never seen you get so spun up over a girl, Kieran," the woman said, her eyes amused. "Come along, we'll talk in private." She grabbed his ear and dragged him to a quiet room off the kitchen that the staff used when they were taking breaks, or needed to vent some frustration. She watched as he staggered over to a table, sitting on it and dragging a hand through his hair.

"Dammit, Mab, is she _okay_?"

"She's just going through puberty, prince. Obviously, this is her first time and it scared her a bit." She looked at him, arching a brow. "You didn't rape her, did you?" His eyes snapped towards her but she maintained a calm look on her face. "No girl her age who'd been raped would jump to the defense of her attacker, going as far as to say that you've been protecting her."

He relaxed, nodding. "She's...I don't know how to explain it, Mab," he said, lowering his head. "She's clumsy and defiant and kind." He snorted. "Even if she did try to kick my privates clear to Oberon's palace..."

Mab snorted and he looked at her, finding her face warm with amusement. "You like her," she teased lightly.

He shook his head. "I think I'm in love with her."

That wiped the mirth from her face. "Kieran, are you serious?" He understood her shock as well as her fear. "She's just a child, she can't possibly understand-"

Frustration gripped him and he stood, pacing. "Dammit, I know that." He'd been battling himself about that since he'd realized it himself. "She's just a child, by our standards an infant. She's not ready for a relationship with something like me." His hand tore through his hair, catching several tangles on its way. "All I know is that I want to protect her, to make sure she gets out of this situation whole, since I'm the one who put her in it in the first place."

Mab looked at him, her brow creasing slightly. "She's resting right now. You should rest too. Maybe I'm the only one who noticed, but Fachen has been skulking around, and he's never liked you, child. Keep a close eye on that girl; because I've no doubt that she'll become fodder if your loyalty comes into question."

He stood slowly, nodding. "I'm going now," he said calmly, then left, walking through the halls, towards his room. When he opened the door, the blood-scent had faded, but only slightly. Erin was lying on his bed, sleeping, wearing her shift, but there were trousers peeking from beneath the hem. He sighed softly, changing his clothing, then climbing into bed beside her.

Once he was under the covers, she turned, snuggling closer to him and he sighed, putting his arms around her. There was only a week until that damn ball his father was planning. As he began to doze off, he wondered if the Goblin King really was going to show up.


	10. Chapter 9

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Nine

Jareth stood across the room, watching as a goblin stood on the back of Sarah's chair, pinning her hair up in a stylish fashion. She was wearing the gown he'd commissioned for her, the wine-colored fabric flattering her coloring more than he'd suspected it would. Her lovely, freckle splashed shoulders were visible, as was the ample cleavage above the neckline.

The goblin that had made that dress was a wicked little creature.

Something he'd always found fascinating about the goblin race was how most of the tiny nuances of their society were handled by the females. The males were warriors, and when they weren't fighting, they were usually drunk and being wild until they collapsed into their own or their wives' beds. The women, however, had skills that were varied and diverse. Most of his castle staff consisted of little female goblins, from the kitchen staff to the seamstresses.

He must have been staring at her as his mind wandered, because his name on her lips drew his attention back to her. There was a soft, nervous blush on her cheeks, which Jareth found endearing. Even after everything, the knowledge that she was still shy, that his gaze might make her heart speed up, gave him hope for their future. He gave her a smile, one that was just for her and would belong to no one else. He stood, moving towards her and rested his hands on her shoulders, still smiling. "You look lovely, darling."

The goblin swore at him, trying to shoo him away so she could finish the lady's hair. He just laughed, shifting and sitting on the vanity, looking down at Sarah and taking her hands in his. Her lips pursed and her brow crept up her forehead a bit. "You don't look too shabby yourself," she half-taunted him, that full lower lip pouting just a bit, as though there was something she viewed as unfair.

The stylist pinned a few more of the painstakingly constructed curls into place and then placed a brooch in her hair that matched the color and styling of the dress. Once the creature had scampered away, he pulled her to her feet, turning her carefully, looking her over from head to toes. As she faced him again, he reclaimed the other hand, kissing the backs of both lightly. "Well, precious, what say we go crash Bram's little party?"

She gave him a wry smile and rose up onto her toes, kissing his lips gently. "Most definitely, sir." He could see the anxiety in her eyes, despite the smile and the light response. To distract her, he slipped his hands behind her neck, not letting her get away with that brief peck of a kiss. She must have forgotten how he responded to her, how he'd always responded. She, his greatest adversary, his most difficult challenge.

Her bare hands touched his face, one palm setting softly against his cheek as she melted into the kiss, the other slowly slipping behind his own neck and wrapping around his shoulders. He moaned a bit desperately, his hands leaving her neck to slip behind her waist, pressing her firmly against him, from hips to chest. "Sarah," he breathed against her lips, suddenly wondering what he was going to do if she wanted to leave after this was all over. How was he going to keep her?

Desperation suddenly gripped him and he drew her tighter against him, his arms creating a cage that she could not escape from. He couldn't lose her again. It would destroy him. The last time, when she had spoken the words that had kept them physically separate, he'd nearly slipped into the madness that would have turned him into a Fisher King. The only thing that had protected him from that was when she'd pulled him into her dream, asked him a question that at the time he loathed answering and had declared that she wanted to continue seeing him.

She had let him court her in her dreams, and he had done so in a way that would have had any other woman begging him to take her back, but she'd never begged. She'd been greedy, expected to keep him as well as her own realm, but she couldn't have both. Now that she'd lay with him, she couldn't have her own realm at all. To try would mean her death, and then she would be lost to him forever. Not that he would let that happen.

He hated grieving before there was a reason, however he was terrified of losing what he'd been wanting- what he was so close to finally getting. He heard a sharp gasp wrung from her lips and pulled back a bit, looking up into her surprised face. Her knees were at his hips, her skirt bunched up at her waist, and he realized quite suddenly that he'd pressed her back against the wall of her dressing room. Damn it all, he needed her more desperately than she likely realized. Not just so that he wouldn't go mad, because he was quite certain that the lady who held his heart would do her best to drive him insane, regardless.

He froze, dropping his forehead to her shoulder. "We'll be late," he said, regretfully. He suddenly didn't care about pissing on Bram's foot by showing up to that damn party. He didn't care about anything but ravishing this woman as thoroughly as he was able. Not a quick, frantic coupling like the one in the forest; a slow, steady feast of pleasure, with her beneath him and around him. He longed to taste every inch of her, wanted to memorize the feel of her skin and hair beneath his hands and lips.

Sarah's breathing slowed, steadied. "Yeah," she agreed and his brow furrowed in frustration. "I guess we will be."

He lifted his face, looking at hers once again, finding her gaze averted in a shy manner, a flush lighting her up from cheeks to breasts. Slowly, her green eyes returned to him and he saw the same desperation, fear, need, and love that he felt reflected inside of them. He touched the corners of them lightly, wonderingly, and after a moment, he smiled, leaning forward to kiss her once again.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Erin stood at the back of the surprisingly lavish ballroom, as far away from the door as she could be kept. Then again, maybe trying to escape not once, but three times, was a little excessive. Even for her. The first attempt had been when Kieran had handed her over to the ladies maids, who had stuffed her into an eighties throwback poofy prom dress, thrust her into a chair and began their coiffing, braiding and weaving of her hair. She didn't care how 'beautiful' she looked, or how 'perfect' the dress was. She still detested wearing dresses, even if Kieran had looked at her in admiration the times she'd worn one in front of him.

The second time was as the ladies maids escorted her to the room the courtiers were in, for formal introductions. She'd almost made it, then. She'd gotten as far as the door to Kieran's room when a hand grabbed her wrist and drug her, practically kicking and screaming, back to where they wanted her.

The last time was as they'd escorted her into the ballroom. By then they were expecting it, so she didn't get far.

There were no other visible doors in the ballroom, just the one large set of double doors at the far end. The room itself was a pleasant shock. It was draped with gold silk, the floor was white marble. Wryly, she smirked. At least she knew now why the rest of the place seemed so roughly hewn. It was because they'd spent the entire gross national product trying to make this room _perfect_. This was the kind of room she pictured when her mother wove the tale of the Labyrinth – a tale she now knew was more than just a story. It was her mother's first encounter with a fairy king.

She snorted, a wholly unladylike sound, and one of the courtiers looked towards her, aghast, and then whispered quickly to the others, who looked equally horrified. It made her want to snort again. She didn't, however, deciding to protect their delicate sensibilities.

With a frown and a sigh, she ran her hand over the full, white skirt. She supposed that she should be relieved that in the five minutes since she'd entered the ballroom, she'd not seen the King or Fachen. They had started looking at her a little too closely since the first time Kieran had taken her downstairs to dine in the formal dining room. Granted, she'd been forced to go down in one of her newly acquired dresses, and she was still having her first period, so they could probably smell her blood.

Ugh. 

The thought made her tremble, and not in any way that might be considered good. One of those idiots was going to try something, she just knew it. Kieran couldn't be there all the time to look after her, and she had the feeling that anyone else – except Mab – would step aside and let them do what they wanted.

For that reason, she was wearing her trousers under the floor length skirts of the gown. She couldn't get away with her boots, because they'd forced her into some delicate silk slippers that made her stride half the length it would be, normally.

She sighed, again running her hand lightly over the skirt. She may hate and detest the damn things, but she had to admit, that this thing made some suppressed part of her that was buried deep in her psyche squeal in girlish delight. It was softer that silk, and when she'd inquired about the material, she'd been told that all wedding gowns were the finest, woven moonbeams. The idea made her want to snort, but she couldn't deny that the way it shone was rather similar to moonlight. It was also surprisingly light and she suspected that it was quite delicate, as well.

She hoped she wouldn't have to get first-hand knowledge of that.

Erin reached down with a hand, pressing lightly against her abdomen, rubbing it as she cramped lightly. It had been three days since this started, six since she'd arrived. Since her period had started, Kieran had been watching over her more closely than normal, even for him. He'd gone as far as to snarl at a few men who had approached her and while the protective streak he was developing was endearing, it was also a little unnerving.

She may be a child, but she wasn't stupid. There was something very adult in his eyes whenever he looked at her, something she didn't fully understand with her brain, which made her heart flutter disgracefully. He was frustrated and angry and at the same time, kind and caring. She'd teased him that he was acting like a mother hen and his eyes had gotten that irritable look in them and he'd muttered something that sounded like 'insolent chit' under his breath before telling her to go to sleep.

That was another thing. Ever since that first town, he'd began lying close to her when they slept, and inevitably they wound up cuddling together like kittens in a basket. Even in the large bed in his room. He never touched her any way that her mother would castrate him for, but when she'd wake in the morning, his arms would be around her and his warmth was at her back. It was strange to her, who had never been held by a man, whose only experiences with men were those of rejection, of watching her mother's pain whenever that prat excuse for an ex-husband reared his ugly head.

"Announcing King Bram and his heir, Prince Kieran," the stiff old man in the powdered wig by the door said in a voice that commanded attention. She looked towards the door, frowning faintly, ignoring the twittering girls around her. Bram, who stood in front, caught her attention first. She was actually surprised what while at their previous meetings, she'd never noticed a resemblance between himself and Kieran, she could see one now. The king wore no crown, instead wearing a tunic of brown leather, a floor length cape that was green, snug dark brown breeches and brown leather boots. His dark hair was tied back neatly from his face.

There was still that hint of madness in his hazel eyes, however now, from here, she could see that he bore a similar facial structure to his son, just a rougher, more masculine version. Her eyes flickered towards the man entering the room behind Bram and her jaw dropped a bit as she recognized the man as Kieran.

Suddenly, it was quite obvious to her that in the time that she'd known him – even since they'd returned to his home – that she'd never seen him at his full advantage.

His hair, which to her had always seemed wild and tangled even when it wasn't, had been brushed until it gleamed under the light, mixed with highlights of blues and browns. His tunic was black leather with loose velvet sleeves. The embroidery on the collar was gold, as was the intricate Celtic knot on his chest. The gloves and boots were matte black, and though they weren't polished, it was obvious that they were finely made. His cape had a collar of gleaming black feathers and trailed to the floor, where the ends were ragged from either wear or, quite possibly, due to the personal preference of the man who wore it.

He must have felt her gaze on him, because his golden eyes lifted and Erin felt her heart do something that she was horrified to identify as fluttering.

Father and son approached her, and Kieran stepped towards her, extending his hand in a gentlemanly fashion. She swallowed hard, setting her own hand upon his. She searched her mind for something snarky, something defiant, anything to let him think that she wasn't affected by the discovery that he wasn't just attractive; he had presence that she had naively not noticed.

He must have noticed her startled expression, because he leaned towards her, his lips close to her ear. "I did tell you I was a prince, little one," he taunted softly. She pursed her lips at him, shooting a glare at him. He just continued smiling, one of his gloved hands coming to sit upon her shoulders. She yelped as Kieran pulled her snug against his side and she returned her gaze to the crowd, hoping that the warmth on her face wasn't a blush while knowing that it probably was.

Bram turned towards the crowd, lifting his hands. "I am pleased to announce the marriage of my son, Prince Kieran to this young lady, Princess Erin of the Goblin Kingdom."

Shocked whispers in the crowd, speculation, amazement. Every eye in the place rested on her and she wanted to squirm in discomfort. She pressed back against Kieran, unable to do more than lift her chin and keep her head up. It stood to reason that they would all be interested in her, as she was the daughter of the Goblin King, suddenly appeared after twelve years, but didn't they realize that all the staring was making her want to act like a rabbit and go _hide_?

"Curtsey," was the soft instruction she received from the man at her side and she gripped the skirt, sinking into a slight one. When she stood upright, there was approval or disbelief on their faces. Whispers went up again, however this time she had the impression that it was not herself that was receiving their glare. This time it was aimed at Kieran, who stood behind her, his back straight, his head still high.

She glanced at him, knowing that these people who didn't know him wouldn't notice the tightening at the corners of his mouth. She wanted to comfort him some way, but knew it wouldn't look good in front of all these people. So instead she lifted her silk clad foot and slammed it down on her friend's boot.

It got his attention and he looked down at her, startled. She simply smiled serenely, glancing out of the corner of her eyes in time to see him smirk faintly. The hand on her shoulder relaxed. She leaned back a bit, her bare back coming into contact with the leather of his jerkin, both taking and giving comfort.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Introductions seemed to take forever, and Erin was still unwell enough from her cycle that she'd left his side, going to stand by herself, where she was being mostly ignored. As his father drug him around the room, introducing him for the first time to the dignitaries from other countries, his eyes kept drifting towards her. Those seamstresses might be complete bitches like she said, but they did damn good work.

When he'd entered the room, there was a moment when he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat when he'd looked at her in the dress. Her wedding dress. He winced a bit at the thought, noticing the faint pursed look of her lips, a sure sign that she wasn't happy. Her mismatched eyes of moss green and sky blue roamed the crowd, searching for some form of escape.

Once he'd looked, he found it was difficult to take his eyes off of her. Her hands, clad in silk gloves that ended above her elbows, were buried amongst the wealth of white material. Her hair was twisted up into a knot and the circlet she'd been forced to wear sparkled beautifully, from the amber stone at the center, to the hand bent silver wires. The design of the circlet was echoed at her neck and at the bodice of her dress, with the same gold embroidery that his own had. The top most layer of skirts was pinned by the crest of the Goblin King, which had to be quickly made for the occasion.

She was lovely, he decided, knowing his eyes were softening.

Funny how when his eyes were on her, his attention focused on her completely and the droning of these diplomats and politicians faded into nothing, he thought, and he set a hand on his father's arm, leaning towards him for a moment. "Excuse me," he said, and then left their side, moving towards the temperamental and frustrating creature known as Erin Williams.

He wasn't certain if she would welcome his offer; after all, it was his fault that she was there. However, wasn't even this better than dead? Or perhaps in her youthful ignorance death was a more desirable choice than being married to a man so much older than she. She had said she'd die before she wed either himself or Bram, but that was before she knew that this was to keep her safe, to protect her from the evils inside this kingdom. He had no idea how she felt about this situation now, but there had been a brief moment when he'd first entered behind Bram, a moment when his eyes had met her own and she'd worn an expression that had hinted she perhaps wasn't unaware of his particular charms.

As he grew closer, her eyes turned towards him, as if she felt him approaching her and her eyes turned a little wary when they focused upon him. It hurt to see that wariness in her eyes, especially when he wasn't certain what she was seeing that was making her wary. Perhaps, just perhaps if he knew, he could take steps to fix that. Not knowing however, he could do nothing. So he just offered her a small smile and his hand in a gentlemanly fashion. "Come, little princess. Dance with me."

He expected her to deny him; he was used to defiance, to irritation from the young tomboy. Needless to say, he was taken completely by surprise when her eyes met his fully, that stubborn spark that he admired so well lighting them and she set her small hand upon his own. "Think you can keep up," she challenged, her brow raising up slightly.

A wild smile turned up his lips and he leaned towards her, returning the challenge. "Can you?" The words brought an arrogance to her face that amused him and he closed his hand around hers, pulling her towards the dance floor. Couples were moving around sedately, looking prim and arrogant and the music droned on. It was a court dance, naturally, where the only things that made contact were palms and eyes. He flicked a thought towards the band, and slowly the music changed to something much more fun. He put one hand at her waist, holding her other hand in his and smiled a bit, still challenging her.

She responded in a way that surprised him. Her hand softened upon his own, and she relaxed a great deal. He began turning her on the floor and was surprised to find that she indeed, could keep up with him, and she was graceful and light on her feet. Because she relaxed, he found himself relaxing as well, and a faint smile came to his lips. "Damn," he swore lightly, keeping his voice light and amused.

She inclined her head, her brow popping up again. "Something wrong?"

"Just wondering if there is anything you don't do well at all. You can dance; you can defend yourself well enough, even if you're a bit clumsy. You can wrap people around your finger. What is your weakness, little girl? There has to be something that you can't do well."

She went quiet and he felt faint tension in her. He found himself regretting cracking such a joke, but before he could apologize and go back to their easy mood, she spoke. "I'm not good with people," she admitted quietly. "Not with the adults, not with the children. There is something about me that scrapes against them. My mother said she was the same way as a child. It's actually why I can defend myself; I had to learn how, because I came home from school with bruises from the beatings they gave me for being different than they were."

His jaw dropped a bit, surprised. "Erin," he said softly.

She glanced up at him, smiled and shrugged. "I got used to it. Mom spoiled me, let me take any sort of lesson I wanted to take, partially because we were all the other had, and so that we would have things to do together. As much as I wanted to know who my father was, at the same time I didn't, because if he came back then there would be someone else to support my mom..."

He was quiet for a moment, spinning her around the floor. He turned her away from him, before she returned her hand set lightly upon his. "I think that you're wrong about that. There would be someone else to support your mother, but that's not all. There would also be someone else there to support you."

Her mismatched eyes lifted towards him and he found himself surprised by the intensely grateful look on her face. They were standing in the middle of a group of people who would kill them both if they found out that he had not raped her, that he wasn't harming her, so that look wasn't safe. He couldn't bring himself to care very much. He brushed a strand of hair back from her face, suddenly wanting to kiss her. He wouldn't, he couldn't, but he wanted to desperately.

She must have seen some of that desire, because her eyes became a bit wary once again and he suddenly became aware that she was, maybe, not so naïve to not fully understand what it meant when a man looked at a woman like that. "Erin," he said softly. "I want to support you, as well. You can borrow my strength. You don't have to fight on your own," he leaned down, kissing her temple softly. While his lips were there, he let his tongue dart out to briefly taste her skin.

She grew fully tense and began to pull away from him, but he held her close. "Kieran, let me go."

He closed his eyes, pressing his face against her temple. He could hear the murmurs around them, noting how she seemed to be trying to escape from him, how angry she seemed. Yes, that was safe. That would distract them from what he was about to say. "I'm not sure I can anymore," he said quietly, and he felt her grow more rigid. He pulled back, finding her face almost white from shock. He didn't speak again, simply turning her around the floor until the dance was over, and then he led her to a chair, letting her sit. He took a moment to collect himself, and then he took a glass of sparkling wine from a passing waiter, handing it to her. "Sip slowly. Relax. I'm not an idiot, kid. Well, a fool, perhaps, but there is a difference."

She did as he requested, sipping the drink, her eyes no longer meeting his. Her color was also slow in returning. Her hands were ice-cold even through both of their gloves. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and mussing it before he sat beside her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, when he was certain no one was looking. "I must be three times the fool for saying that to you." He glanced towards her and saw her looking at him from the corner of her eyes. "I cannot change facts, little one. You are too young for someone like me, by your world's standards and even by my own. In the above, people mature faster because they live short lives, maybe a hundred years. Down here, we live for centuries, and I'm already a hundred years old. Young by our standards, to be sure, but by your own, I'm older than your grandparents. Physically, you are a young woman, but you are still very innocent." He smiled grimly. "Believe me when I saw that falling for a child was not a conscious decision."

She choked a bit on the wine, turning to look at him fully and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Falling for-"

He snorted. "So it would seem."

She held the glass between her gloved hands, her face lowered. "Kieran, I like you, I consider you a friend, but-"

He held up a hand. "You don't have to say anything. I know it's impossible." He'd never quite gotten the nerve to show her the note that Jareth sent back to him. It still rested within that locked drawer, waiting. That last line was a little too telling, and he didn't want her asking questions about why he'd written that. It drove him nuts that he was that easily read through by the man. Now, however...perhaps he could tell her now. "Erin, do you remember the note I sent to your father, informing him that you were safe?"

Her attention was suddenly fully upon him. "The one Wes took?"

He smiled at the name she'd given the bird. She'd actually begun naming all of them, and she'd managed to keep track of who was who with an ease that surprised him. Most just saw black birds, but she could see the differences in them. "Yes," he said quietly. "I've been waiting, uncertain how to tell you, but I got a letter back from him. He threatened to break both of my hands if I so much as touched you inappropriately, so believe me when I say you're safe. I've no desire to lose the use of my hands for the rest of my long life."

Her eyes searched his own and he gave her a faint smile, one he knew looked sick and tired. He saw surprised and concern flash through them and her hand lifted after a moment, reaching to touch him. He closed his eyes, only to have them snap open when the doors at the entrance slammed open with a force that caused several candle lights to go out, and most of the guests to cry out in shock or fear.

The band stopped playing instantly.

Several creatures scrambled into the room, carrying trumpets that had flags on them. They scrambled up others of them, until banners bearing the crest of the goblin kingdom unfurled, hanging nearly to the floor, even stacked three on each other. A taller goblin moved to the front, moving gracefully. The trumpets blared and the tall goblin spoke in a loud, almost feminine voice. "Announcing King Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom, and his companion, Lady Sarah Williams."


	11. Chapter 10

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Ten

"Announcing King Jareth of the Goblin Kingdom, and his companion, Lady Sarah Williams."

Sarah glanced towards her companion, arching a brow faintly. He certainly was aiming for a showy entrance, wasn't he? She smiled as she lightly set her hand upon his own. As he escorted her through the door and into the ballroom draped with gold silk she could feel every eye in the room was upon them. She knew that they were a handsome pair, her dressed in the rich wine red gown accented with gold and opalescent threads that he'd had commissioned for her. He was dressed to match at her side, in silks of black and that same wine color, red streaks mingling with his wealth of wild blond hair.

There were a few mirrors at the sides and she could see herself beside him, her gloveless hand resting lightly upon the black leather hands of the Goblin King – her lover and beloved adversary – her hair hanging in ringlets around her face, just as wild as his own. She could feel the half-smile that turned up her painted lips and she glanced upwards at her escort in wry amusement. He was returning her look with one of his own, all smug arrogance.

He leaned towards her moments before they left the safety of their goblin escorts. "Now that is how you make an entrance, precious," he teased lightly.

"Really? I thought there would be more glitter," she teased lightly, drawing a laugh from the man at her side. She flushed faintly, tearing her gaze from his own, hers wandering over the people who attended. She saw no sign of her daughter or her kidnapper amongst those who stood on the dance floor, and she knew it was best to try to keep her attention on her escort, but it was difficult. She missed her daughter desperately, and she wanted to be sure that she was truly alright.

As if he knew what she was looking for, he drew her towards a man who had dark hair, golden skin, and hazel eyes, that bore a faint resemblance to the boy. He wasn't a youth by any means and his expression upon first sight of Jareth twisted into an expression of such hatred that it actually startled her. She stole a glance at her companion and saw him still wearing that smug smirk, although she could see shadows in his eyes. Suddenly, she became aware that despite Jareth's carefree outward appearance, he was actually quite furious.

"Well, well, I didn't think you'd show up, Jareth," the man said, his voice snide.

A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she saw a man clad in black standing in front of her daughter, his stance that of a guard.

"I had to thank you for your generous invitation in person," Jareth said, keeping his voice polite. She couldn't deny that she was impressed with his control. "Our kingdoms have not been friendly in quite a while, it's good to see that you've moved past your anger and are trying to get along with us now."

Oh, this was steeping in political bullshit, Sarah thought as she chewed on her lip and her eyes were drawn towards the pair off to the side once again and she saw that the youth called Kieran had one hand on Erin's wrist and was holding her back, frantically whispering in her ear. She could have been mistaken, but there was a faint air of both panic and relief on his face. It crossed her mind that perhaps Jareth was right and she returned her gaze to the Goblin King, setting her other hand on his as well. "Darling," she inquired, keeping her voice on the edge of feminine and delicate, hoping to further throw off those around them.

Surprise, followed by pleasure flashed through Jareth's eyes almost too fast to follow, and he turned towards her, smiling. "Of course, where are my manners? Precious, this is King Bram; Bram, my lovely companion is Lady Sarah Williams, the champion of my Labyrinth."

The air of disdainful ignorance that surrounded them for most of the conversation between the two was shattered and tension filled the room, although Sarah suspected that they'd been listening all along and now no one wished to speak due to wanting to know what the response to that little challenge would be. Silence reigned and shock rippled through the crowd. The hazel eyes of King Bram grew wide and perhaps a little frightened. Then, the expression became one of disgust. Still, he offered a hand and a smile that might have been charming if not laced with malice. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Sarah," he said.

If you were any more pleased, you'd choke, Sarah thought, keeping the delicate, air-headed look on her face. "The pleasure is mine," she said, setting her hand upon his own and trying not to cringe in disgust when he pressed his lips against it. He held it tight for a moment longer than was necessary, obviously considering something that probably wasn't wise, when Jareth extracted her hand from his grasp and put an arm around her waist.

"Ah, ah," Jareth said lightly, but there was a warning aimed at Bram. "The lady is spoken for this evening. Although I suppose I'll have to spare her for at least one dance so I might share one with my daughter. I don't imagine the Prince minds sparing his bride for the sake of tradition?"

"Come now, Jareth, Kieran is _family_ now. Calling him 'the Prince' is far too formal," Bram taunted back. "One day, he'll inherit both your land as well as my own..."

Jareth smiled and slipped an arm around Sarah's waist, his lips turned in an amused smile. "Come now, I'm still young and I've more than enough time to have a son..." His other hand came to rest low on her stomach, and Sarah wanted to punch him for implying to the entire ballroom that she was knocked up by the Goblin King.

More shock, more whispers. Sarah ignored them, however, since Jareth was turning towards where her daughter stood with the young man and his hand slipped away from her stomach. Erin's eyes locked with her own and Sarah saw that this was no surprise to the girl. She had obviously known for a while – or at least since her abduction – that her father was of the fairy realms, and that was the man who was walking beside her, seemingly calm – slowly, cautiously. There was a fierce sort of joy in her daughter's eyes and she knew it was reflected in her own as Jareth moved towards them as well.

Once they were facing the pair, she saw Kieran trying to pull up that smug, arrogant attitude that practically dripped from his father and realized that this boy was a very bad actor. She leaned towards Jareth and spoke softly. "I want to speak alone with Erin," she said quietly.

He smiled at her. "What a coincidence, I would like to have a word with young Kieran. Perhaps I'll take my daughter to speak on the balcony and you follow in the guise of looking for your escort?"

She saw that they understood each other and she squeezed his hand gently in her own. "I think that's a wonderful idea."

Then they were standing in front of Kieran and Erin and Jareth wasted no time offering a hand to Erin, who looked dazed and surprised as she set her hand upon her father's. Sarah smiled a bit, since she could sympathize. The Goblin King cut quite a figure. Meanwhile, the young man had the decency to look uncomfortable as he offered her a hand as well. She kept maintained her character, setting her hand upon his and smiling stupidly. There was a look of intense suspicion on his face as he led her to the dance floor and music was cued up.

Once everyone was distracted by dancing with their partners, she leaned towards the boy who she could nearly look in the eye. "You're lucky I don't slip a knife between your ribs, you fairy prick."

Amber eyes flashed in surprise and then he looked relieved, rather than worried. A wry expression covered his face and he smiled ruefully. "Ah, now I see where Erin gets her charming personality," he said. "Although I don't suppose I can blame you. We didn't exactly meet on the best of terms."

"No, we didn't," she agreed. When she didn't say anything else, he squirmed in discomfort for a moment until she gave him a faint smile. "However it is my understanding that you're keeping my daughter safe, and for that I am grateful. Her condition hasn't gotten out of control, and she is blossoming into a young lady without me." That thought was a little distressing. How would she convince her headstrong daughter to return above if the child fell in love with a fae prince?

"If it makes you feel better, she did attempt to rearrange my privates when I first kidnapped her, and has rather excelled at being a thorn in my side since then," he said, but detected a fondness in his voice that he couldn't quite hide. She looked at him in surprise, recognizing that expression he wore.

"Oh, bloody hell, you're in love with her," she said quietly.

He looked startled, and opened his mouth to object, but it instead snapped shut and he glanced around them. "For the love of the gods, woman, don't say that out loud here," he whispered fiercely. "If they suspect that I view her as more than a tool, if they knew that I my loyalty is in question, then we'll both be killed, and I'll hardly be any use to your daughter if I'm dead."

"You're right," she said quietly. She went silent contemplating this new information. The boy being in love with her wasn't something she'd expected, although Jareth seemed to have suspected for a while. He'd kept making allusions regarding how Erin was turning the boy inside out. It was only slightly comforting.

A movement from the corner of her eye drew her attention and she turned a bit, seeing Jareth guiding her daughter towards a broad exit that let onto a balcony. "I suppose I should adopt my bubble head persona again. I'm going to need you to escort me to the balcony on our left. Jareth wants a word with you and I want to speak with Erin. I've been worried about her."

He smiled thinly. "Even with my assurance that she was safe," he asked, and then shook his head when she tried to object. "I suppose it's natural. I stole your daughter before your eyes. However, the one they really wanted was you. My father wanted to spill blood to incite war, and that would have destroyed this country. I hated Jareth for what he did to my mother and a part of me always will, but right now, that doesn't matter."

She looked at his face for a long moment, seeing a young man taking the final steps of maturity and thought for a moment that if her daughter fell in love with him as well, she would try to be understanding. Even if she made them stick to the human standard and make his ass wait until her daughter was at least eighteen. She put a hand to her head and staggered slightly. "Oh, I'm dizzy," she lied, seeing his eyes sharpen upon her as though sensing something different.

He supported her, his eyes seeming to find something and she knew he'd realized that this was a signal. "Here, why don't we step onto the balcony for some fresh air?" She saw his eyes flicker towards his father and the man was smirking in his arrogance. She knew he thought his son was going to make the moves on her, to hurt Jareth. The fool.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

His daughter was not a bad dancer at all, and she appeared to be as light on her feet as her mother, her face splashed with those same freckles, although he found them adorable on here, whereas they were enchanting on Sarah. Her gaze was heavy with youthful innocence and arrogance and he fought back the smirk that had been tugging on his lips since he'd begun waltzing with his daughter.

After a moment, when Bram's attention strayed to Sarah and Kieran, he shifted his grip, guiding her towards a balcony. "Come with me, child," he said quietly, leading her swiftly and silently, casting a glamor to keep attention from them. Once they were out of the line of sight of the other dancers, the girl suddenly threw her arms around him.

"I always knew it," she whispered, her voice fierce. "I always knew that prick Alex Foster wasn't my father!" She pulled back, looking up at him, a broad smirk on her face. "I just didn't expect it to be a fairy king, either."

He smirked faintly, offering his hand as escort, leading her towards the balustrade. "I suppose you have a keen instinct, then, haven't you? Just like your mother," His eyes flickered towards the ballroom, feeling a brief tension when he realized he couldn't see Sarah very well amongst the sea of fae dancers. Once they were at the stone rail, he turned, resting his elbows upon it so he could both face his daughter and see anyone who might approach behind her. It was a stupid question to ask, but it was all he could think of to say. "How have you been?"

She gave him a speculative look, then smiled. "Before or since I came here?"

He chuckled. "Either. Both? I've missed all the best parts of your life, so I'm afraid I've much to catch up on."

Her smile turned sly of a sudden, and he wondered if this was how his mother had felt when he'd pinned her with that look. "Not to mention twelve years of Christmas and birthday presents to make up for..."

_She looks like her father_...

Jareth lowered his face and smiled; not one that usually sent the goblins running, an honest smile. "I suppose that is true as well..."

The girl went quiet for a long moment, just looking up at his face, a fierce look on hers. He'd noticed the resemblance between the two of them in the picture, however now that he was closer, now that he was really looking at her, it was more startling, more amazing. "Did you come here to save me?"

The tone was strange, as if she'd reached a conclusion that she wasn't certain she liked. He arched a brow towards her. "My dear girl, if I've learned anything from dealing with your mother it's that the Williams women can take care of themselves; although you seem to be a tad accident prone."

She blinked, tilting her head to the side, in a very familiar fashion, that in this respect reflected confusion. "How do you mean?"

"Every time you shook your kidnapper for a moment, somehow you were getting hurt. First you triggered that trap, and then you wander off and nearly become a naiads victim..." He shook his head. "Tough is good, but you should learn that it's alright to rely on those older than you. Like the young prince who has been trying to take care of you." He lifted his gaze and saw her eyes averted and a faint hint of pink on her cheeks.

When she realized he was looking at her, the flush darkened. "I...I don't know what you're talking about!"

He smiled faintly, inclining his head as his lover and Erin's protector began to move towards the balcony. "Of course you don't. You are Sarah Williams' daughter, after all."

"And yours," she pointed out, frowning.

He rested a hand upon her head and kissed her brow lightly. "Of course. I almost pity your friend."

The flush darkened her cheeks once again, and he gestured with his chin at the pair that was approaching. She turned and he watched as joy lit her eyes and she lifted the skirts of her dress, sprinting towards her mother. He withheld a chuckle when he saw brown leather beneath layers of moonbeam skirts. The girl really was her mother's daughter.

He watched the elated child and relieved mother embrace and his eyes flickered towards the somewhat guilty gaze of the young man who also watched them. With a faint smile, he pushed off the balcony and moved towards them. "Sarah, why don't you take Erin over there and...catch up?" His eyes were focused on Kieran as he spoke.

The youth looked at him, a slightly nervous look on his face. Sarah looked from one to the other, shrugged, and then guided her daughter far enough away from them that they had some privacy. Once they were out of earshot, Jareth smirked. "It's far too late to feel guilty, prince." The boy jumped as though startled and he leaned back gestured towards the railing. "Rest yourself for a moment, gather your wits."

Once the boy was reluctantly leaning against the rail to his side, he gestured towards the pair. "Feels a bit like being clobbered upside the head with an iron skillet, doesn't it?" There was a confused look on his face and Jareth bared his teeth in a grin. "Falling in love, I mean."

Kieran groaned, driving his hands into his black hair and pushing the glossy hair back from his face. "For the love of the gods, is it that obvious," he grumbled. "Because if it is, then I'm in deep trouble, and so is she."

"Most of our kind wouldn't notice, after all they are too in love with themselves to realize. Even those who have fallen in love would not realize, because you're in love with a mortal. I, however, am also in love with a mortal, so I understand the symptoms. One of them being guilt for things you have no power to change any longer." His gaze wandered towards the pair and he felt a brief stab of melancholy himself as he looked at the lovely face of his own Sarah Williams.

"You did something that made you feel guilty?"

"I blamed her for something she couldn't have changed about herself. I blamed her for leaving me, for winning, even after she asked me to stay with her. I didn't tell her that speaking my name would call me to her side and it took her thirteen years to learn that herself."

"So you haven't seen her in thirteen years?"

"Until you wisely kidnapped my daughter, I hadn't been in the same room as her in nineteen years. She spoke words in the Labyrinth that rendered me incapable of being with her unless she called me."

"'You have no power...'" the youth said quietly.

Jareth turned his gaze towards him. "How would you know the right words of the Labyrinth?"

Kieran shook his head, and then looked at Erin's back, his face somewhat serious. "While we were traveling, Erin learned of her paternity from me. She spoke of a story her mother had told her as a child, how it had always felt like more than just a story. She also mentioned that she thought that those words were why you weren't able to go to her."

The king sighed, sagging back against the balustrade, his face serious. "Indeed. It would appear my girl has the same quick wit as her mother." Jareth looked at his daughter's back, narrowing his eyes. "It takes time to make the women of the Williams family see anything, even that which should be obvious to the rest of either world. That is not a bad thing, as Sarah will most likely hold to the above ground standard and make you wait until Erin is at least a few years older before she views your wedding as anything more than something to protect her daughter."

"What about you," Kieran asked, his voice genuinely curious.

Jareth smiled, turning towards the youth. The young man's golden eyes were narrow, as though seeking his own answer. "I'll stand by the side of my beloved in front of her. However, you are married legally and I understand falling for someone who is not ready by her world's standards. So this is my advice. Wait until she's ready. It might be years, but eventually it will happen. When it does, do not let her go."

He knew his voice was melancholy, and his eyes had drifted back to Sarah, who was holding her daughter tightly and speaking fiercely in the girl's ear.

"Isn't there a human saying that says if you love them, let them go?"

The boy was too perceptive. "Indeed, there is," Jareth agreed. "However, that is only if it is their wish to leave. I have made a rather troublesome mistake at this point, and my kingdom might end up without a king." He turned towards the boy. "At that point, you'll become king by default, as you're married to my daughter."

The leather gloved hand grabbed his jacket collar, and there was an intense look on his young face. "What are you talking about," his voice was a sharp whisper.

Jareth brushed the boy's hands off with a smile. "I gave into a need that was nineteen years old and had the pleasure of holding her in my arms without the promise of her staying with me. This is her life, so it has to be her choice."

The hand grabbed him again. "She'll die," he whispered fiercely. "Have you told her that?"

"She won't die," Jareth promised quietly. "Even if she should leave me, she won't die. I will use all of my strength and I know well enough how to prevent it. I will spiral into madness as a result, becoming a Fisher King, and I'll be lost in that forever. But believe this, young man, even should my beloved leave me, she will _not_ die."

There was shock on his face, and slowly, the gloved hand released him, those golden eyes wide. "You're talking about a complete sacrifice. Give up everything to keep her soul anchored in her body."

A smile turned up his lips and he looked towards her. "She's left me twice, I've little doubt that she'll do so once again. Once she has her darling daughter back safely, she'll leave me once more. It will be the last time, and if she ever calls me again, I won't hear her."

This morbid talk was depressing him. He gestured vaguely. "Don't let my fate concern you. I've made my own choices in this life, and it's up to me how I leave it. Now, we need to gather our respective partners before the rest of the guests have reason to call attention to our absence. A glamor only lasts so long."

The boy nodded and they began moving slowly towards the ladies. When Erin turned, Jareth saw a slightly feral expression on her face and he wondered what Sarah had been talking to the girl about. He'd inquire to his lady later. What did surprise him was when she walked directly up to him, pressed a light kiss to his cheek and then gave him a smile that did wonders to lift his spirits. "Kieran and I will go first," she said lightly, setting her hand upon Kieran's, her young face not looking young at all with that expression. She looked like a radiant young lady and he watched them go with a smile.

"She's really fond of that boy," Sarah said softly.

"He's in love with her, as well." Jareth looked towards her and saw a soft expression on Sarah's face as she watched the pair go, her eyes slightly unfocused. "They're a good pair, in a few years she'll make a formidable queen, and he'll be a just ruler. He's three times the man Bram was at that age."

Sarah's eyes moved towards him and there was something warm in her eyes. "I think so, too," she agreed. Her hands reached up slowly and she touched his face lightly, running her fingertips over his cheekbones. His eyes closed involuntarily and he lifted a hand, flattening one against his face. "Tell me again why we're not bringing them with us," she asked softly.

He smiled faintly. "At this point, it would make me look like a jealous father, and it would be viewed as an act of war."

"What about this marriage?"

"It's legally binding here. Putting her in that dress and displaying her before the rest of the fae in such a manner makes it known throughout the kingdoms, and word will trickle back to Oberon." Jareth shrugged faintly, turning his face into her palm to kiss it gently. He opened his eyes and saw a musing expression on her face.

"Does that mean we're married," she asked and he noticed that there was something in her eyes that he couldn't identify.

He knew what she was referring to. The events in that crystal ballroom so long ago. He smiled thinly. "No, darling. That was a dream that I spun for you, nothing more. I was...showing you the possibilities. You cast the dream aside, and you left me," he released her hand and prepared to step away, but her hand slipped up, curling into his hair. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her. "Sarah-"

His words were stopped by soft lips against his own. His eyes snapped open and he barely stifled the whimper that rose in his throat. Her eyes were closed, her coal lashes brushing against her cheeks. When those moss-green eyes opened, he found himself struck dumb by the longing within them.

"Sarah," he breathed, lifting a hand to caress the abundance of curls that hung around her face.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

She felt the caress, but her eyes couldn't look away from the surprised wonder in his own. "You're going to make me leave after this, aren't you," she said quietly. "You say you'll welcome Erin and I, but you've made no hint of what you really want. Always, you've shown me possibilities, but you refuse to make demands." She rested her forehead against his chin. "It pisses me off."

His arms slipped around her, caressing the skin above the corset lightly. "My dearest, you love to defy me, so making demands is futile." He kissed her hairline, and then moved his lips down along it, till he reached her ear. The caress of his lips made her shiver. "I love how you defy me, but I do not wish to trouble the tenuous arrangement we have between us. If all you will allow me is the physical pleasure we share, I will take it. Besides, you've yet to answer if you intend to stay, so I cannot ask for more."

She pulled back, staring into his two-toned eyes. He was such a frustratingly stubborn creature. Couldn't he see that she wanted him to _ask_ her to stay? He was thrusting the whole of the decision upon her shoulders and it made her want to scream and start strangling him. She slowly released his hair and stepped back, withdrawing from him. She didn't look at him as she did, so his hands grabbing her arms startled her and she looked at him, surprised. His eyes were wide, slightly panicked, as if he thought she was going to disappear or vanish right then.

Her heart ached. He didn't trust her to stay, and he was afraid to really ask her to, because he thought she would say no just to defy him. Slowly, she put a hand behind his neck, pulling him down and she gently caressed his lips with her own. As she retreated, she opened her eyes to check his expression now. "I'm here now," she said softly, chastising him.

He gave a soft sigh, leaning forward, resting his forehead against hers. "That you are, darling. That you are..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran stood near Erin while she ate a plate of food with the same ravenous way she'd eaten everything since they'd met. He kept his gaze on her, a bemused expression on his face, turning away those who came to speak to the young lady who was focused entirely on the food offering before her. He'd even had to turn away Sarah at one point, who upon noticing her daughter with the plate of food smiled in amusement.

Nothing can compete for her attention when there's food, the woman had said before leaving. It was something he'd learned quickly enough. When the girl ate, there was a single-minded intensity to it. Others would show expressions of disgust, but they didn't know of her health issue regarding food.

After a few moments, he heard the fork hit the plate and turned towards him. The plate was empty and she was staring into space, a far-off look in her eyes. The conversation with Jareth had been little comfort. It was slightly bothersome that the girl had so many of her mother's character traits, and Jareth's comment about her being not ready. The Goblin King himself had been denied by a woman who wasn't ready, had been abandoned by the woman who held his heart, not once but twice. Twice, the man had fought the madness of becoming a Fisher King for the sake of that one woman.

If that woman left now...

He was surprised to find that he didn't want to deal with the idea, because if he even entertained it, he would have to entertain the possibility that after all this was done then she might leave.

He withheld a sigh and saw the pair that he was thinking of dancing in the corner and the Goblin King was whispering into the woman's ear. Whatever he was saying caused a sad-looking smile to turn up her lips.

"They are such unbelievable idiots," Erin's voice at his side startled him and he looked down towards her. He stared at her, surprised and then snorted softly.

"Seems so," he agreed, smiling faintly.

She looked up at him, frowning. "My mom doesn't want to go home, but he didn't ask her to stay. She had some rather uncomplimentary things to say about that."

He shrugged faintly. "He wants her to choose him over her world," he said quietly. "He doesn't want to push her, because he wants it to be her choice."

She pursed her lips, the perfect picture of annoyance. "They need marriage counseling," she muttered, a dark look on her face. "I'm not good at that crap."

"Neither am I. Besides, they'll just turn it on me," he quietly put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. Rather than grow rigid as he expected, she relaxed against him, her head resting on his chest. "When the time to make a decision comes, what will yours be?"

"Oh, I don't even need to think about it. I don't belong there," she didn't look at him as she spoke, but he thought he could see the faint hint of a blush on her cheeks.

"Erin?"

She glanced up at him, an eyebrow arched. "Is that a problem? I mean, I've never gotten to spend any time with my father, and I suspect I'll fit in the Goblin Kingdom rather well." She grinned a bit. "Besides, you're my friend, I'll miss you." Her eyes returned to the twirling dancers and he found himself staring at the top of her head.

He smiled faintly, leaning down and kissing the side of her face. "I would miss you as well," he said quietly, meeting her gaze when she looked up at him in surprise. Then, her face split into a smile and she snuggled quietly back into the embrace. His smile broadened and he slipped his hand down, lacing his fingers with hers.


	12. Chapter 11

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Eleven

Fachen stood slightly behind King Bram silently fuming, watching the party goers swirl around the room. His eyes continuously found where Kieran, the new heir, was standing with his new bride. If not for that stinking rat of a boy he would have become the heir, would have inherited the throne. He was more suited to the responsibilities of being king, not that stupid bastard son who should have been killed on the battlefield when his bitch mother had fallen.

He didn't like his father's brother, Bram, either. Only a fool would have put that bastard on a throne, but obviously, his father's line was rich with fools. It was ridiculous to become so attached to anything that insanity would grip you when they died. It was obvious, especially now, that sentimentality was Bram's chief weakness.

He, however, wasn't tied by such foolishness. His own father had been a trusting, sentimental fool as well, clear up until the man had fallen with Fachen's own blade buried in his back. He'd done what he had to do. His father had the nerve to try to tell him that he was unsuited to the small title the family carried. Something about him being power hungry and half-mad.

He wasn't mad. He just hated watching countries run by people without the spine to solve the problems in it, ones who were so lost in madness they couldn't see the manipulations of others. Well, he had a spine, and he was lucid enough. He couldn't entirely disagree with the statement of being power hungry. After all, he liked power, which was part of the reason he'd been so furious when Kieran had walked into that receiving chamber with a much better boon than simply the champion of the Labyrinth.

It was fortunate for him that he'd gone riffling through Kieran's drawers today and found the one that was curiously locked. Kieran had never, in all his time, seen fit to lock his personal effects away before. But, now he locked his room when not in it and also locked the top drawer of his bedside table.

Locks were something easily dealt with by someone like him. He'd found the secret correspondence that had been hidden amongst the drawers contents, but now was not the time to reveal it, not with the bitch's father and new husband still around, still able to protect her.

Traitorous fool.

He'd almost been fooled by the act. If not for the girl's own actions, he would have been convinced, so authentic was Kieran's performance. Fortunately for him, that girl wasn't acting nearly fearful enough of the young bastard to have been raped by him. Those with a keen eye for the behavior and cared to noticed could tell- he could tell. Although some kidnap victims developed a dependence upon their abductors, almost seem to fall in love with them, this wasn't the case with them. She seemed to be wary of his cousin, but she still trusted him far too much. To him, it seemed that Kieran was the one dependent on her; with close observation one could see the affectionate looks he would bestow unwittingly on her.

Also, Kieran was far too protective of her. The one time he'd attempted to weasel a dance out of her to make certain if she was chaste or not he'd been thwarted by being told that the girl was eating. While that appeared to be true by the sheer amount of food on the plate the girl held, he knew it was also merely an excuse to monopolize her.

To anyone else, it would appear that he was simply guarding his territory, warning other males away. Monogamy wasn't something always embraced in the Unseelie courts, after all. However, there was too much warmth, too much affection when Kieran spoke to her. There was faint wariness, but an equal amount of exasperation. Somehow, during their trek from the Labyrinth's outer edge to this kingdom, Kieran had become obsessed with the girl.

If not for that one fact, he'd have leaned back and watched this drama play out before killing off the future king and queen and assuming the throne himself. It would have given him a few more years to enjoy the freedoms of being a man with a small title before embracing the responsibilities of a real ruler. After all, to betray the father whose boots you'd always licked showed more spine than he'd believed Kieran capable of having, and hatching such a brilliant plot in such a short time was quite interesting.

He'd never expected Kieran to take such a drastic grab for his father's throne.

Still, he would have to be eliminated before he caused any more trouble. That was fine, though. He would deal with the bastard soon enough. And there was nothing Bram enjoyed more than dealing with traitors to his crown...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It was late and Sarah was swaying on her feet when Jareth finally suggested they retire to the inn which catered to the fae aristocracy in this area. She'd hugged her daughter gently, watched as Jareth kissed the girl on the forehead and then she was ushered into a palanquin that Bram had provided to take them to the inn.

It had all seemed too simple, not the convoluted mess she'd been expecting, and that troubled her greatly. Now she sat, bouncing along beside Jareth, her hand holding onto his. "Well, did it live up to your expectations," she asked after they'd been riding in silence for quite a while.

Jareth blinked as though she'd startled him and looked towards her. His lips turned up into an exasperated smile. "Are you referring to your dress, my daughter, or young Kieran?"

"I was talking about your little play at being a covert spy," she retorted. "Although, I suppose I'd like to know your opinion about the others as well."

He barked out a laugh and leaned towards her slightly. "Well, I thought I made my opinion of the dress very clear before we left my castle. However, if you need further proof that I find you utterly ravishing in it, I suppose I could demonstrate-"

She knew she blushed. She could feel the heat pool in her cheeks as she grabbed his wrists to prevent him from distracting her. "Jareth-"

He huffed. "Oh, fine..." He sighed, slipping his arms around her, holding her reclined against him, which put his lips near her ear. "Erin is everything I could have imagined, showing your defiance and my own innate love of chaos. Kieran is a sound young man and in several years will be an admirable ruler, regardless of what his own people think of him." He went quiet for a moment, and she felt her skin tingle, which made her suspect that he was using magic.

"What are you doing?"

"Shielding the inside of this palanquin. I suspect the only reason Bram parted with it so easily was the hope that he would have his own spy in the front seat. Regarding the rest, from what I can tell, the court is in chaos. Bram has named Kieran his heir, which is a surprise – to them all. Before this he would send the boy on little missions and such, things that no royal family member should have to dirty their hands with..."

Sarah turned her face towards him, seeing shadows in his eyes. "Like what?"

"He sent Kieran to assassinate me. It's common among the Unseelie courts when a bastard is birthed. They become a shadow, used to take care of missions that other royal fae wouldn't lower themselves to do, but were too important to leave to mere peons. The only reason he failed is because I do not sit idle by while my country stands the possibility of being threatened. Oberon commanded I move against Bram, and so I did. My lands straddle the border between the lands of the Seelie and Unseelie. Because of that, it's been one of my duties to protect one land from the other. Bram was allowed to move in freedom as long as he didn't try to step into lands where the Seelie dwell.

"I had it on good authority that he was planning on attempting to take not just the Seelie borderlands, but my own as well. It might have worked if he hadn't attempted a seizure of both at the same time. Oberon's weapon came down upon him and crushed his invasion in a single day." He shrugged faintly. When he spoke again, he'd moved back to the original topic.

"Now we sit, seemingly oblivious, in a transportation device provided by Bram. If you were he, what would you do?"

Sarah pondered that for several long moments, her lips pulling into a frown. "Probably have the driver take us off to some remote location to do away with us, and then drive the bodies some place public so that it's obvious we're dead. After that, I'd likely try to stick the boy I consider my puppet prince onto the throne of the Goblin King, now that he has legitimate claim through his marriage to Erin."

"Indeed," he said quietly. "And because of that marriage, no court in the Underground would challenge his right to the throne." Jareth sighed. "Besides the issues the court has with Kieran being named heir, which means he will eventually be in charge of all of them, there is Bram's nephew, Fachen. That one is shrewd, and I suspect he's the one who killed his father. Rumor has it, he's very displeased that he's been over-looked for the inheritance of the throne, and as a result is being more prickly than usual."

Sarah frowned deeply. "You think he'll move against Kieran?"

"I think that this kingdom is rich with people who would love to have a hand at killing the young prince, and even more who would like to claim having killed me, just for the reward. Ah, precious," he murmured into her hair. "I'm not sure I should have brought you along..."

She drove her elbow into his rib, drawing a startled yelp from the sovereign. "If you ever consider leaving me behind like some damn princess in a tower, I'll make sure Erin is your only child."

He gave her a shrewd look and a sharp smile. "You would, too," he agreed. "Alright then, darling. We need to think of a plan in order to throw off this little fool who thinks he can take on the Goblin King and his champion."

She gave him a small smile and twisted around, kissing him lightly. "Very well, your highness."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Parting with her mother and father was melancholy, but Erin knew why they couldn't bring her with them. She stood beside Kieran watching them get into the palanquin, trying hard to not let anyone else see the pain and upset from watching her mother's worried face disappear as the cart rode away. Her friend stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder.

To anyone else, it probably looked like he was restraining her, but she could feel the way his thumb gently stroked her shoulder, trying to comfort her without showing the others what he was doing. Now, she waited in his room for him to join her, to show her that note that he'd mentioned during the ball. She'd bid out immediately after her parents left, and Kieran had escorted her to the room before moving to rejoin the ball, as was expected of him. It turned out, that it was not uncommon in their culture for the woman to turn in early on the wedding night, to prepare herself for the marriage bed.

As if she needed any preparation, she snorted faintly, running her bare hand lightly over the starlight fabric. For the first time, she had a dress that she truly didn't want to see damaged.

She'd taken off the dress, laying it with gentle care over the chair that sat in front of the desk. A week of trying to get into and out of dresses by herself left her capable of doing so without tearing the fabric. She didn't really have a choice. She knew that Kieran would have helped her, but she wasn't quite comfortable enough with him to let him take her clothes off and they didn't want to risk having a servant do it.

Perhaps Kieran was right, even dresses like this had their place in the world. She would have had to have been blind to not see the admiration on Kieran's face each time his eyes had fallen on her in that dress. She sobered a bit, pulling a chemise on over her head and laying out a vest and trousers for the next day.

He'd said that falling for a child hadn't been his plan. She was not as naïve as he probably thought, but this was a huge gray area for her. She'd just gotten a love confession from a man who was a century old that very evening.

Granted, physically he was probably only twenty years old, but that wasn't the point. He'd had years to gain experience in the field of romance, and she had not. In fact, though the boys in her school looked at her with something resembling interest, they were too frightened of her to actually attempt such a thing. She had no immunity to deal with that. Maybe that was why her heart had been doing such odd cardiovascular calisthenics lately.

Her heart recognized that look, had known what it meant and while her mind was reeling, her heart rather liked the idea. It wasn't like the slightly malicious boyish attraction she saw in the eyes of boys from her world before they dropped a hand-full of worms down the back of her shirt. It was something mature and heart-wrenching and, dare she think it, _romantic_.

It had come as a surprise to find that he felt something like that towards her, regardless of her not really minding. Deep down, however, she found herself both excited and frustrated with the idea. After all, he acknowledged that she was in no way ready for a relationship. Still, if she had to be in one with someone, she wouldn't mind trying it out with him. Maybe not the more intimate parts, she was just twelve after all.

But she didn't think she'd mind trying a kiss.

She blushed faintly, shocked that she'd even thought of that. Feeling guilty, she flopped down on the bed and looked down at her clenched hands. Apparently, she'd been wringing them for quite awhile, because the skin was starting to turn pink and her fingers hurt. Her eyes drifted away from her hands and she caught sight of the bedside table and the drawer that was slightly open and askew. She frowned a bit and pulled the drawer open fully, finding it empty.

It was odd. Kieran, who was usually unkempt in a casual kind of way, was almost compulsive with his room. Everything that had a door or drawer was closed firmly. Clothing was set out neatly for the next day. Soiled clothing immediately went down the chute, unless it was formal wear. He didn't keep clutter around. There had never been a time when she had seen his papers strewn or the drawer ajar.

A knock sounded at the door and she froze, midway to walking towards it. Something she could only call instinct caused her to retrieve and pull on the trousers she'd worn during the ball on beneath the chemise she currently wore. She rarely wore shoes in this room, but her feet slipped into the comfortable leather boots as well. She didn't know why she was being paranoid, but as her mother often said, better safe than sorry. She moved cautiously towards the door as a fist struck it once again, this time in anger.

She jumped, feeling the faintest slash of fear.

She needed a weapon, something to defend herself with, but she had nothing but her hands, so those would have to do. Later she'd talk to Kieran about letting her carry around a knife holster of some kind. Cautiously, she moved towards the door, trying to drive down the urge to flee. She couldn't run yet. She wasn't going to just abandon her friend. She wasn't that kind of person. So she gripped the doorknob, opening it, trying to appear timid and afraid. It wasn't too much of a stretch, regardless.

Bram stood there, looking down at her with a look of unholy hatred bright in his eyes. Nausea churned her stomach and she swallowed hard. As the door was shoved open and she stumbled back, one thought passed through her mind: Kieran, where are you?

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran was moving back to his room when the odd sensation in his stomach began troubling him. Fachen was standing in the hall when he'd left and he'd been unable to escape conversation with the cousin. Still, his eyes kept darting down the hall, feeling his nerves scratching away.

"Worried about your little innocent wife?"

His eyes flashed towards his cousin and he swallowed hard. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well," Fachen began pacing around him, wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. "Play ignorant if you wish. I know your little secret." Kieran's eyes snapped towards his cousin and when he knew he had the prince's full attention, he sneered. "The girl is chaste."

Panic made him feel sick, and the scraping sensation on his nerves was growing worse. "What is this idiocy of which you speak?" He wasn't certain how he'd maintained his calm, but he did.

Fachen stopped in front of him, in his hand a slightly crumpled piece of parchment. There was a look in his eyes that screamed of victory, of knowing he'd won. "'If you set one hand on my daughter, I'll remove them'," he recited, looking amused. "Imagine my surprise when the little runt always seeking his daddy's affection has suddenly turned the traitor..."

He went pale, staring at the parchment. Now, at least, he understood why he felt so much fear racing through him. She was in trouble. He'd known. "You...who have you told?"

The other fae smiled wickedly, and a cruel chuckle left him. "Just who you would suspect. My king. After all, to not tell him while knowing such a thing...would make me a traitor as well..."

Kieran glanced left and right, seeing guards moving down the hall towards him. Fachen's hand grabbed his shirt, and there was a soft laugh near his ear. "You should have died on the battlefield with the rest of them, you toy-prince..."

The words from his cousin were punctuated by a shriek of rage and fear and his stomach dropped out completely.

Anger filled him suddenly and Kieran moved sharply, grabbing Fachen's arm and twisting it. His ears met with the sound that reminded him of a dry branch snapping followed by a hysterical scream of pain, but he didn't care. Erin was in danger because of this bastard. The guards were rushing towards him, but he'd already changed his shape, flying just out of the reach of their hands, his wings black beating hard as he hurried towards his room, where Erin was waiting.

Upon arriving at his door, he could hear the sounds of fighting within, the sound of hands striking flesh, Bram's voice filled with anger, Erin's own filled with an inhuman sort of fury, the sound of cloth tearing and he changed back again, kicking down the door. Just as he passed through the frame, he saw Erin's closed fist strike his father's temple, and the man hit the floor, passing out instantly.

The chemise she wore was torn half-way down the middle and there were several bruises forming on her face and arms. There was a severe bite mark on her neck and her eyes were glassy with panic and rage. She looked half-wild and extremely vulnerable. Beneath the bottom hem of the nightwear, he saw the bottoms of her leather trousers, and lifted his gaze to her face once more. He dropped to the floor, pushing his father's unconscious body out of the way and drawing her to his chest. "Are you alright," he asked, perhaps redundantly.

She shuddered against him and her hands curled into fists against his chest. She didn't speak, but she nodded, a sharp movement.

He closed his eyes, nodding in return, and then stood, helping her to her feet. "We have to leave," he said, taking her with him as he moved to grab his travel pack. She briefly pulled free of his gentle grip and left his side and he felt faint panic grab him. He turned towards her and saw her already standing before the door to the crow cage. After a moment, her eyes turned towards him.

"I'm not leaving them."

He might have stopped her, but her eyes were filled with defiance, and he mourned what might happen to them if they were left behind. Her small hands threw the cage open and the birds, which were already likely spooked from the attack on their mistress bolted, flew immediately out of the open window.

He turned his back to her, shoving some clothes into the pack and finding two more of the vials with the sugar-syrup in them and shoving those in as well. A glance towards Erin showed she'd abandoned the chemise and was mid-way through putting on one of her blouses. He saw a dark bruise marring her ribs and swore, hoping that it was merely a surface bruise and not something more serious. Moments later, she was dressed, with a dirk shoved into the belt of her pants. "Ready? The guards will find us soon."

She nodded and he offered his hand, which she took and they ran for the door.

He could hear the uproar his childhood home was in, knew they were being chased down. Lucky for him no one really knew where he would run whenever he was in trouble. The only person who had known died on a battlefield many years ago. He drug Erin to the back stairs which led down to the kitchens.

Mab was already waiting for them, standing at the cutting block, wrapping cheese, bread and some dried mean in a large napkin. She looked up as they entered, not surprised at all. She finished tying the bundle and moved towards them, a sad smile on her face. "I suspected as much. You have to run now." She set the bundle in his hands and he looked at her in surprise and sadness.

"Mab-"

"Go, you foolish boy, before the guards or that poisonous cousin of yours discover which way you went. You have to protect the princess, do you not? Old Mab can take care of herself." She smiled at them, and then moved towards the stove where it smelled like she was making gruel. Or boiling laundry. "Head towards the old oak," she said, a faint smile playing on her lips. "Keep to the trees. They'll have more trouble tracking you that way than her father. His tracking skills are not to be underestimated."

Erin looked towards Mab. "Why are you helping us?"

The old woman gave them a knowing smile, and then turned back towards the bubbling concoction on the stove. "Go quickly."

Kieran would have moved towards her, but there was no time. Quickly, he pulled Erin from the building and he knew somehow that he wouldn't see this place, or Mab, ever again.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Plan decided upon, Sarah and Jareth had settled into wait and they'd been relaxing for quite awhile, when suddenly Sarah sat rigidly straight and her hand clutched his. Jareth looked at her through narrow eyes, a faint frown pulling at his lips. "Sarah, what's wrong?"

She turned towards him and he saw her face was pale, tense. "Something's wrong. I think...Jareth, Erin's in trouble."

Gently, he set his free hand on hers which still clung to his own. There was panic in her eyes, fear. He searched her gaze, knowing that this was beyond motherly instinct. Obviously, he was going to have to have a talk with his queen about a few more things than he'd planned once this was over. "You're certain?"

She looked towards him, her hands shaking. "Jareth..."

She was panicking. She was not suited to panic, he decided. It did her complexion no good whatsoever. "Darling, Erin has been in trouble since she set foot in the Underground. As long as young Kieran is at her side, have faith that she is alive and well."

"How can you be so sure?"

He gently cupped her face, searching her eyes. "Because he loves her, Sarah. At least half as much as I love you, which you can believe is a great deal more than any mortal man. When one of our kind falls in love, it is not simple, tidy, and it never fades. So you can believe that if Erin falls, then it will be due to Kieran falling first, for if we find one, we shall find both, likely alive or dead."

She squeezed her eyes shut, taking an unsteady breath. He watched as color slowly returned to her face and she chaffed her arms. He shifted, putting part of his cloak around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. "For now you need not worry. If they follow the instructions I left behind, then they will be fine."

She took an unsteady breath and looked towards him. "Alright, Jareth. I trust you."

That sentence caused his heart to stumble a bit and he looked up towards her moss-green eyes, seeing that she spoke with sincerity. Silently, he leaned towards her, watching as her lips turned into the faintest smile and her eyes closed. A shuddering breath left him and he slipped a hand back into her hair. "Sarah, you will drive me mad," he murmured against her lips.

"Is that bad?"

He chuckled. "On the contrary, darling. I imagine I'll enjoy the vast majority of it," he said with a smile, feeling her own lips echo the feeling. "Hmm...would it not cause a scandal, I would tear this dress off of you here and now and have you enter that inn wearing nothing but my cloak."

"Tempting offer, highness," she murmured, her hand running lightly across his thigh. She opened her mouth to say something else, but their world was suddenly thrown into chaos as the palanquin started to tip to one side and Jareth heard the driver scream in panic. He instinctively wrapped his arms around Sarah, shielding her head as they were pitched over along with their ride.

He heard Sarah whisper a denial, and waited for pain, but instead, he felt nothing, even as they were tossed end over end, until the contraption came to a stop. Jareth lifted his face, looking around, finding the carriage was completely decimated, and yet somehow, he and Sarah sat in the middle of the wreckage, completely unscathed.

The driver was dead, that much was obvious. His body was mangled, limbs bent at unnatural angles and there was a large portion of his head collapsed in on itself. He shielded Sarah from having to see that, turning towards his lady, who was staring around them, slightly dazed. "Did you do that," she asked quietly.

"I was under the impression that you had, darling," Jareth said, glancing around them. "Well, I suppose this could be an accident, but I had forgotten that Bram likes to play dirty. It stands to reason that those who believe in fair sport wouldn't fully understand him..."

"You're fair," Sarah inquired.

He frowned at her. "Most of the time, when I've got little to lose. I couldn't afford to be fair with you."

She gave him half a grin and tried to stand up, causing Jareth to lunge forward to catch her when her knees gave out moments after her feet were under her. "I'm tired...I wasn't tired before..."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about it, darling. Just close your eyes. Rest for a moment. I will carry you." He didn't fancy waiting around at the scene of the accident for someone else to come along and try to finish the job, so he scooped up the limp Sarah Williams and began hiking.

"Can't you just...poof us off somewhere?"

He glanced towards her. "Transport magic requires energy relative to distance. The farther the distance, the more magic it takes, and as a result, it would drain the area and anyone in it of energy." He tried to keep the explanation for something so complicated simple. "That, in turn, would turn this area into an energy void, making our location much easier for any other assassins to track."

"Ah," she mumbled. Jareth glanced down at her as he moved through the thick brush, feeling it rip holes in his cloak. He didn't care. All that mattered was that Sarah was still safe. He leaned down, kissing her forehead, breathing her scent deeply. "You did well, precious. I'll explain the rest later. For now...just sleep..."


	13. Chapter 12

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Twelve

Erin could feel the hunger gnawing in her belly, but she knew that they couldn't stop running. Not yet. They were still too close to his family home to risk doing so. They had, however, left the house far enough behind that the uproar of the Kieran's ancestral home was a distant memory; only the sounds of the forest were around them. Her legs were aching from the pace they were keeping. Kieran was much taller than she, and his legs were longer. She was very nearly having to run to keep up with his jog. Then again, even he was stumbling a bit from the pace they were maintaining. The terrain was uneven and there were lots of raised roots to catch their feet and rocks to cause ankles to roll.

Everything was happening so fast, she didn't have time to think. She was already exhausted from the ball earlier that night, and now they had to make their escape when neither of them were at their best. "Kieran," she gasped, trying to draw enough breath to ask what had happened, why his father had attacked her.

He must have heard how much trouble she was having when she cried out to him, because he stopped abruptly and she collided with him. His arms went around her, embracing her tightly. "Are you alright," he asked quietly. His voice tight, sounding very worried.

She lifted her face and saw the concern on his own. "I'm a little hungry, but besides that, what _happened_? Your father attacked me-"

"I know." He looked so tired, so weary and she watched him dig into his pack for a few moments before pulling out one of those vials. "Have a sip. It will keep your sugars up." She took the vial, holding it loose in her hand.

"Kieran, what happened?" She searched his face for a long moment, surprised to see pain flash across it. Gently, she set her free hand on his arm.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, he spoke. "Fachen found the note your father sent me. I can only guess that he showed it to my father sometime this evening, most likely when I took you to the room. I had stepped out for some fresh air and to think about some things your father had said and when I came back in, Fachen approached me to...taunt me, I suppose."

Erin frowned. "Stupid of him. If he'd kept his mouth shut you wouldn't have known..."

He snorted. "Fachen isn't stupid. He's shrewd in a way that worries me. He's planning something, beyond just getting rid of me. I just don't know what." He sighed, tapping the vial. "Have a sip, Erin. You need to be at your peek for this."

She took a quick sip from the vial, and then passed it back to him. "Kieran-"

"Yes," he took the vial back, not looking at her fully.

She didn't withdraw at his seeming disinterest. His normally golden skin seemed pale, his hair was growing tangled already from the wind tearing through it. He glowed slightly from the exertion and was dotted with sweat. He looked tired and frightened and she was so worried about him. She didn't cringe away as he slowly turned towards her, that something in his eyes once again. It was a little frightening, knowing someone that was so much stronger than her loved her.

His hand came up and lightly touched her face, one, and then the other, just cupping it very gently. She refused to look away from him, meeting his gaze with her own. Lightly, she touched one of the hands on her face, holding it there. "I'll protect you," he said quietly, and she thought she felt one of his hands tremble lightly. She wasn't really certain if he was telling himself or telling her. It didn't matter. Not really.

She hesitated for only a moment, and then pushed herself up onto her toes, lightly kissing him on the lips. It was short, almost unbelievably so, and she was pretty sure she did something wrong, because he went completely tense. She backed off quickly, looking up into his face only to find his eyes wide in shock or amazement or...something.

She blushed, feeling suddenly uncertain, and pressed her face against his chest, burrowing into his warmth. "Don't say a word," she threatened softly.

After a long moment, his hands came to rest on her back and she felt his chin on her head. Then, a moment later, he shifted his grip and suddenly she was swept up into his arms and she realized with a mental stutter that she was being carried...like a princess. Her face burned and she hid it in the soft feathered collar of his cloak. "Cheat," she grumbled quietly. It just wasn't fair.

He hummed softly and she felt his lips lightly brush against her temple. Then he was moving once again, at great speeds through the forest. She smiled in exasperation. If he kept on protecting her like this, she was going to forget how to protect herself.

So she silently made a promise to herself that she would protect him, too. Whether he liked it or not...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Fachen watched from behind the king as Bram issued orders to the rabble of people he'd collected. Many were mercenaries or assassins, but there were several of the kingdom's soldiers that were standing there as well. In all honesty, there were probably many more that had been turned away who would like to try their hand at killing the traitors.

However, Bram didn't want them dead. He wanted them brought back so that he could watch Kieran's punishment himself. One thing – the only thing – that Fachen admired in Bram was the ruthless way he handled those who betrayed him. The one time Fachen had the privilege of witnessing such an execution had given him goosebumps. The man, who was essentially filleted alive, had been begging for death before the killing blow was finally struck. Bram had used healers to keep him alive, to keep him conscious so that he would feel ever iota of pain visited upon him.

It was delightfully sadistic.

Kieran's betrayal in particular seemed to bring out Bram's worst nature. Then again, that bastard had always done anything he could in order to gain his father's approval. He never got it until he revealed a level of thinking that had not been expected by the members of the court. Bringing the daughter of the king's enemy had helped.

If only they had realized that Kieran had too much of his mother's blood, which made him too soft, too devoted. And that girl had to have cast some manner of spell upon that brat in order to make him become devoted to a slip of a girl like her. Much as the mortal bitch that the Goblin King was so enamored of must have cast upon him.

Bram turned towards him and Fachen noticed a strangely lonely look on the old man's face. "Fachen, I give you charge of the troops. They will report to you. When you've captured them, bring them both to me. Maybe I'll let you rape the bitch in front of my traitor son..."

Fachen smirked faintly. He wouldn't mind the opportunity to break Kieran's little bitch. "You needn't worry, your highness. When they bring them in, I'll let you know..." He set a comforting hand on his uncle's shoulder, the smirk broadening as the man turned and began to leave. "I'll take care of everything..."

He never saw the look of tired, sad resignation cover Bram's face.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah leaned heavily on Jareth, her fingers wound together with his own. Since the accident, he'd not really released her, even when she insisted on walking on her own. She'd known he was hovering on the other side of the bush when she'd needed to use the toilet.

It was as though he was worried she'd disappear. Then again, she couldn't deny that she'd been hanging closer to him since the carriage tipped. Accident or intentional, she'd had the briefest flash of fear and then they were surrounded by invisible padding, and while the palanquin was destroyed around them, they sat in the eye of the storm, uninjured.

She wasn't sure if it was stress, or lack of rest, but she was already exhausted. She didn't know how Jareth managed to keep moving forward at such a steady pace, kept moving her along at that same pace. She didn't complain, refused to. The faster they moved, the sooner they'd catch up with Erin. She glanced up at the grim face of the man at her side and knew he was having the same thoughts as she was this time.

Before, he'd been relaxed, even as he'd carried her immediately after the accident. The stress she saw on his face hadn't arrived until several blackbirds streaked across the sky. Except one. That one flew down to their level and Sarah found herself staring at a boy with black hair and pale skin. His eyes had no iris and they were completely black.

The youth was winded, frightened. "Goblin King..."

Jareth had stared at the boy for a long time, and then answered. "I know you, don't I?"

The boy nodded, trying to catch his breath. "Kieran's loyalties have been revealed. They run."

All at once, her somewhat serious lover became a grim-faced man she barely recognized. "The old oak?"

"That is what old Mab will tell them..."

Jareth gave a short nod. "Then we will collect them. Take your brethren and hide at the castle beyond the Goblin City. I will reunite you with your master then."

Once the boy had gone, she'd looked towards him, but he didn't answer any of her unspoken questions. Instead, he'd simply moved more rapidly that she thought he would, that grim look on his handsome face.

She was getting tired of his silence, however, and she wanted answers. "Jareth, who was that boy?"

He didn't hesitate, and she saw his jaw clench briefly. "That was no boy. That was a raven, precious. While a few fae possess that animal form, it is rare. Raven's already possess the ability to transform, they possessed it long before the fae were bore into existence. They are one of few creatures that can travel to the underworld and return unscathed." He gave a rough laugh that sounded rather angry. "That was the raven that brought the message regarding your daughter."

Sarah frowned deeply. "If these creatures are so powerful, why would they allow themselves to be used as messengers?"

"I know not. However, when we reach our son-in-law, you can bet I am going to inquire about it."

She sighed, sensing the man's irritation and gently set her hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Jareth. Let us hurry..."

He nodded sharply. She could feel the stress in his body, but he still took the hand that had held hers and slipped it gently around her shoulders, holding her easily against his side. Sarah slipped her arm around his waist in answer and glanced at his profile for a long moment. "Jareth, after we get Sarah and Kieran to your castle, I suggest we take a day or two where we don't think about what has happened and we bar ourselves in your room."

He glanced towards her, an eyebrow arched into his hairline and there was trace amusement on his face, wiping away the worst of his grim expression. Underneath the amusement, however, was a faint trace of sadness. "You have some nefarious plans in mind, then precious?"

"Less nefarious, more toe-curling," she admitted, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He barked out a laugh and his head rested on hers as they walked. "Darling, I like the way you think..."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran had resorted to piggy backing her once again. It was the third or fourth time he'd insisted on doing so. She'd been nibbling on food during their infrequent stops, and the only times she slept was when she was as she was. He was worried about her. Even if she was rapidly becoming the fae she would have been had she been raised here, her body was still very human and due to the rapid change, needed rest more often.

She was, in a word, exhausted. He could feel her soft breathing stirring his hair and continued trudging along the forest floor. They hadn't been attacked yet, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Knowing how his family was, Bram would not be among his attackers. No, that man would be waiting at the castle, sharpening his own brand of weapons.

Knives used to torture their victims until they begged for the sweet release would give them. Bram wouldn't grant him swift death. He would drag every ounce of suffering out of his body as was possible. He would torture Erin until she was hoarse from her screaming. Likely, he would make him watch, bound and unable to save her.

Unfortunately, he was getting tired as well. He couldn't afford to rest, but he knew that if he didn't that he would be a detriment. He couldn't protect her properly if he didn't get some sleep. He would need to find a safe place for her before he would be able to. Perhaps a small burrow, something hidden behind grass...

His eyes found a small mound of ground and he moved towards it. It was the kind of thing he'd been hoping for, just small enough for her, like a small cave burrowed out of the dirt by some animal seeking shelter. Gently, he laid her in the burrow and pulled off his cape, draping it gently over her. She was shivering from the cold, from weakness and perhaps from fear as well. He shivered as well, and when it ended, he was in his raven form and he moved into the burrow as well, glad that the grass was high enough it mostly hid their hiding place. A simple glamour would do the rest.

He nudged open the pack that she'd been carrying while riding on his back and pulled out some of the bread and meat, nibbling at it. His bird form had its advantages. It needed less food to sustain itself, it was compact, and it could sleep anywhere. It also held the advantage of being easily awoken, something that could not be said for his fae form.

Once he'd eaten his fill, he'd nested close to her stomach, rested his head on her thighs and finally fell asleep.

What woke him was not a great noise; it wasn't yelling it wasn't the sound of shoes. It was the eerie absence of the normal forest sounds. He wanted to look out of his burrow, but knowing the forests as well as he did told him that the lack of noise meant that someone was closing in on this area, someone who could move silently, someone who was not embraced by the forest as normal. An outsider- which meant that it was very likely that one of the men his father would have sent after them was dangerously close to their location.

Kieran heard the footsteps only moments later, moving towards where they were hidden. He glanced towards Erin and saw her eyes were open and staring at him. Her lips were tightly shut and after a brief moment, she glanced towards the burrow's opening then her eyes returned to him. He could hear the unspoken question and he simply nodded.

She shifted just a bit, bringing an arm around his body, her hand restlessly stroking his feathers. Had he been in his human form, he would have blushed. As it was, his body settled comfortably into the position and they waited intense silence.

The crunch of leaves grew closer and closer and then stopped. Kieran felt Erin shiver and he shivered in answer. "There's nothing here," came a cool voice outside the burrow.

"The trail ends here," another voice said. "They have to be here somewhere!"

"Maybe they're just covering the trail with glamour. There's one right there, after all. Maybe they're just using those to mislead us."

"Then again, maybe they're right around here somewhere and are hoping that we'll make that assumption."

A sigh. "Look around further if you must. I'm gonna have a cigarette," the man muttered, and both of them barely managed to stifle a startled cry when two boots showed in their line of vision. Erin's grip on him tightened and he glanced towards her, seeing an obstinate look on her face.

After the long tense moment, the voice spoke once again. "Prince, you would do well to hide your tracks better," came a quiet voice. "Not all of the guards on your tail are as idiotic or easily led as Flemming over there."

Kieran drew away and glanced from the burrow, seeing golden eyes and tanned skin beneath black hair. The man who been granted the position of captain of the guard following his mother's death- and his mother's brother. The man's face was filled with exasperation. It appeared he had managed to retain some friends in his father's court.

"I thought you were taught better than this," the man reproached.

"Alastar," called the other voice.

The man looked away, over his shoulder. "Did you find anything?"

"There's a faint trail leading off to the north, towards lord Brendan's lands, away from the Labyrinth." The other voice said. "I think they're wandering aimlessly, or they're lost." There was an audible snort. "And everyone was talking about how great a navigator and survivalist this brat is..."

Mildly, Alastar replied, "Indeed." His voice was laced with sarcasm. "Well, let's be off in that direction, then."

Kieran watched as the man stood and once the sound of footfall retreated, he changed back to his fae form, and then helped Erin out of the burrow. "He's right, I've been careless," he said quietly.

"Kieran, you're exhausted," she objected. Her hand lightly rested on his arm. "You've been trying to put distance between us and them, and...I can't keep up. You're bearing my burden as well, so don't you dare blame yourself!"

He heard her irritation and looked at her. Her hair stuck in all sorts of directions, she was smudged with dirt and he could see scrapes on her skin where she'd stumbled and fallen, trying to keep pace with him the night before. With a tired sigh, he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against his chest and resting his chin on her head. "Alright," he agreed. "Let's hurry and eat something so we can get away from here. If Alastar found us, then the others can't be far behind."

She nodded in agreement, and they divided some food between them before he stood, fastening his cloak around his shoulders once again and they moved through the rapidly brightening forest.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran had done a great job keeping them off their trail for days, but eventually, they knew it would happen. Naturally, it did when they weren't expecting it.

He had found another seemingly safe place for Erin to sleep, in form of a hollow tree, with a glamour hiding the entrance so that it would be difficult to find her. The tree was small, and he was too large to fit, so again, he changed to his raven form, hiding in the tree with her, the pack tucked into the back.

It had been a few hours till daylight when he'd dozed off finally, and scant hours after that when Erin's shrill shriek of pain and fury reached his ears. He startled awake, in time to see Erin pulled by her ankle from the tree. "ERIN!" His voice started a bird shriek, but he was in his fae form before her name had full left his mouth.

He exploded out of the tree stump in time to see several men in light armor holding Erin down and a knife at her throat. More hands grabbed him and a blade rested against his own as well. "Well, well...your dear daddy has put quite a price on your head toy-prince..."

He watched Erin struggling against the hands that held her, and watched the men laugh and teasingly slice across her clothing, leaving lines of bright red blood in their wake. He watched her face closely, seeing her flinch only slightly. "We were asked to keep you both alive, but we're feeling mean right now..." A blade sliced against his arm and he was so surprised that he snarled in pain. "You two gave us too much trouble when we were looking for you. Doubling back on your paths, covering shit with glamour."

Erin's eyes met his and he saw none of the desperation he was feeling. He did, however, see anger bordering on fury. Some of that fury was aimed at him, as though she was asking what he was getting so worried about, that he should just relax and handle this. He felt the blade slash at him again, but this time, he was too focused on her expression, on the message that she was sending him without speaking. He relaxed, went limp, a faint smile turning up his lips before he jerked sideways, grabbing the hand of one mercenary with the hand held by another and he jerked him to the side.

A blade slashed deeper than was likely intended into his side, and he felt the pain, but refused to respond to it. Using the one he held as a shield against the others, he knocked them down, grabbed two of the knives from their hands and dropped two of the guards holding Erin with a blade between their eyes. After that, he had to focus on the others that had grabbed him, using a third knife to drop one with a jab to the solar plexus, then another through the temple, and another across the neck. Blood splashed him, but he saw Erin was free now and had grabbed their pack, slipping it over their shoulders. His torn and tattered cloak was in her hands as well.

"Just leave them," he snapped.

"We need the food," she snapped back and continued, "and the cloak works as a blanket!"

He snarled in frustration at her, grabbing her hand, feeling her hand curl trustingly around his own, despite the irritation he sensed in her. He hesitated for just a moment, looking at her face, smudged with dirt, her disheveled hair, the wounds that were multiplying.

Then, by the hand that he held, he pulled her away from the carnage they'd left behind them.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth frowned, leaning over the body in front of him. Sarah was standing slightly behind him, but when he'd caught the strong scent of blood, he'd forced her to stand back, so that she wouldn't be faced with the sight that he was seeing.

Jareth had known that the boy was good in a fight, had watched him slaughter goblins when he'd been but a child. However, he suspected a few of these bodies were care of his daughter. He frowned grimly, and gestured for Sarah to approach. She did so with worry obvious on her face. "Jareth-"

"They were here, darling, however they're not now. Likely they were caught while taking a rest, and they had to fight off their captors..." He lifted two knives that were heavily coated in blood and sniffed the blade beneath his nose. "Most of this is theirs, however there is a faint trace of royal blood on this blade, and..." He lifted another one, breathing deeply. "This one as well. They weren't trying to kill them, just...taking out some anger, I believe."

"Erin..." Sarah breathed in worry.

"At this point, I'm more worried about Kieran than our daughter."

She looked towards him frowning deeply. "You'll have to explain that, Jareth."

He straightened, still holding the knife that had been used on Kieran. "It's likely that Bram wants them alive, so they will have not done anything to cause great harm to either. However, Kieran has sustained a rather severe wound, and I doubt he realized that these knives were dusted with iron powder. Erin, being female and still partially human, will simply absorb the iron to replace what she lost during her cycle. Kieran, however..."

"I thought the iron thing was just a myth, like the food!"

He sighed. "The myth states we're allergic to it, or that we do not like the touch of it. The truth is this: anything in high quantities is poison, and iron poisoning is more common among males than females, as they need the iron to replenish their blood."

"So you're saying that he could be poisoned and not realize it?"

He cast a grim look towards Sarah. "That is precisely what I'm saying." He offered her his hand once again. "Come, precious. Let us hurry. These bodies are relatively fresh, so we can't be far behind them."

She nodded shortly, her hand curling tighter around his. He wasn't entirely certain if she was seeking comfort for herself, or seeking to give it to him.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran was panting slightly, more winded than Erin could remember seeing him. His normally tanned face was covered with blood, however she could see that his skin was pale, sweating, almost waxy in appearance. His gold eyes had a wild look in them.

They'd been running for what felt like weeks, but had only been days. They'd been found more than that one time, and Kieran had always taken the brunt of the damage trying to protect her. The deep gash on his side wasn't the only one. He'd sustained nasty blows to the ribs and had a few nastier wounds on his arms and one rather bad one on the side of his neck.

Still, not all of the blood that covered him was his own.

Now, they huddled together in the base of a large, hollow oak tree, seemingly hidden from the world. For the first time, Erin actually wondered if her mother and father would find them in time. Gently, she set her hand against the wound in his side. "Kieran-"

He hushed her, pulling her tight against his chest. Those eyes seemed to glow with intensity as he stared out of the hollow space, seeming to wait for...something. She cocked her head to the side and noticed for the first time that the normal sounds of the forest had died down. "Someone's coming," he confirmed in a quiet, labored voice, answering the question she never got to ask.

As if in response to that statement, two boots appeared at the entrance to the hollow space. They were black leather, finely made if she was any judge. A glance towards the man holding her found grim resignation in his eyes. "I'll protect you," he promised again, his voice quiet and sounding somehow weak. She believed him. He would kill himself trying to protect her.

Well, she wouldn't let him, she thought, gripping his shirt and glancing towards the boots once again.

Just as Kieran thrust his hand out to hurl magic at whoever had found them, the owner of the boots leaned down, peering into the hole, an arrogant yet exasperated expression on his handsome face. Mismatched eyes peered at them from beneath pale blonde hair and after a moment, the man straightened. "Precious, I found them."

Erin heard her mother rushing towards them, heard her voice and tears pierced her eyes. "Mom...? Dad...?"

Kieran helped her leave the hollow space, his arms trembling and she lifted her face, seeing her mother still wearing her dress from the ball, although it was torn in several places from her trek through the forest. Her father, as well, was dressed in his finery, looking slightly worse for wear. With a cry, she threw her arms around them, pressing her face into her mother's shirt.

She turned towards Kieran, however as she did, her father stepped away, and moved quickly forward. She twisted in her mother's arms to find Kieran has collapsed, his breathing more labored now than when they'd first found the hollow space. "Kieran?"

Her mother held her back as the Goblin King held a hand over her friend's forehead. "I was right," the older man said grimly, and then his arm wrapped around herself and her mother and the world seemed to crush her for a moment, before everything went black.


	14. Chapter 13

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Thirteen

It was the second time that Sarah had experienced that crushing sensation, however it was enough to know what it was. Sure enough, when she opened her eyes, she found herself in Jareth's Castle, her daughter still in her arms, her lover's arms still around her.

The young fae who had kidnapped her daughter was limp and ashen in the Goblin King's grasp, and as soon as they were material again, she heard him shouting orders at goblins that skittered by. "Get me a healer, now! Gribbly, assemble your men! Meoph, I want a status report; I need to know where we stand in terms of 'battle readiness'."

One goblin in a colander-helmet looked up at them through wide-eyes, and then whispers went up. "Girl...the girl, the princess..." Sarah watched in half-amusement as the colander-goblin crawled up Erin's pant leg and looked up at her with that look of wide-eyed devotion that she'd seen a few goblins gaze at her with as well. Erin looked up at her, eyes wide and surprised, but they didn't have much time to dwell on it, because Jareth was already moving, carrying the unconscious prince in his arms.

Sarah ushered her daughter after him, through the winding castle, until they arrived at a room that was in the same wing she and Jareth had slept in. The door swung open as if someone had pushed it and hit the wall hard enough that she jumped. That was the first real hint she had regarding how deep Jareth's frustration went. Erin pulled away from her and rushed into the room behind her father. She, herself, followed at a much calmer pace.

She knew enough to be wary when Jareth was feeling angry. She didn't think he'd hurt her or their child, but he was very volatile and sometimes physical hurts didn't sting as badly as a poorly chosen word. "How bad is it," Sarah asked gently, watching as the Goblin King ripped the younger fae's shirt off.

"I won't know until I speak to a healer," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "Damn fool boy, you'd better have an ounce of the fight that your mother had, because if I have to go to the land of the dead and haul you back, there's going to be more hell to pay waiting for you here."

Erin, obviously distressed, gripped her father's shirt. "What's wrong?"

Jareth snarled softly, whirling on her. Sarah could see when he realized that it was Erin and not her facing him because he seemed to check his temper. Lightly, he brushed a finger over an open wound that was still oozing blood slowly. The wound wasn't clean, it was red, angry, and puss-filled blisters were around the edge of it. "Whenever he received this, poison was introduced into his system. There are several similar to this, but this is by far the worst. The adrenaline and his inability to really rest caused what should have been a minor injury to cultivate a nearly fatal wound."

Erin looked towards Kieran and Sarah saw the tears shimmering in her daughter's eyes- Erin, who didn't let people see her cry. Erin, who always pretended to be strong so that occasionally, Sarah could be weak. Erin who crawled into Sarah's bed when her mother couldn't sleep and would lay there, gently petting her hair until whatever stresses or worries she faced were washed away.

The healer entered, a squat goblin with a bag almost as large as she, and looked around the room, then at the prince on the bed. "What's the trouble?"

"Esmie," Jareth said, his tone quiet. "I need your skills, because this is beyond mine."

The healer looked at the king and then climbed up onto the stool that was beside the bed. "Oh hell-fire," the woman murmured. "Highness, you might want to clear the room."

He turned and looked towards Sarah, then glanced at Erin. "Erin, you should go. It is unlikely that this will be pleasant to watch, and I would spare you the trauma."

Erin's jaw jutted out and she glared at him. "I'm not leaving." Sarah almost smiled when she heard that same stubborn tone that her own voice always got.

Jareth sighed, lifting his gaze to her. "Sarah, could you-"

"No," she said quietly. "I couldn't." His eyes flashed with anger so she continued. "Jareth, if I were in her situation – if that was you laying there on that bed, possibly dying – do you think I would be able to leave?"

His eyes flashed with something and his face looked hurt, wounded. He did, she realized. Until she'd said that, that was exactly what he'd thought. Her heart clenched in pain and her hands tightened on her daughter's shoulders. After a moment of looking at her in silence, Jareth turned back to the patient on the bed. "Very well," he said, but it was more a ghost of a comment than a genuine permissive.

Sarah gently guided Erin to the other side of the bed and then smiled at the goblin leaning over the prince. "At the very least, we'll be extra sets of hands should you need them," she offered.

Esmie eyed her, and then a crooked grin turned up her lips. "That'll do, ma'am, that'll do."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

It was several hours later when Jareth finally left the room with Sarah, feeling exhausted and wiped out. His precious one didn't look much better herself. Erin had spent more than half the treatment holding Kieran's hand and looking up at his face with a look of tension that he didn't know how to calm.

It was only when Esmie finally closed her pack and announced that she'd done all that she could and the rest was up to the prince that he decided to give his daughter some time alone with the youth. He knew that when the boy was awake that his daughter would let them know.

Right now, all he wanted was to curl up in a bed with this lady, have her embrace him, and hold his head against her breast so that he could listen to the steady rhythm of her heart. He'd seen the pain that had marred her face when he hadn't responded to her query. He'd been certain that she wanted to leave, wanted nothing more than to get away from him as soon as this was all over, but her words...

They implied that she did not wish to leave. At the ball as well, she'd expressed her frustration because he refused to demand that she stay. Maybe it was selfish of him, but his pride would not allow him to ask her to remain at his side, and his heart acquiesced with that, because if he said yes and she said no, it would completely destroy him.

He was so caught up with his thoughts that he was startled when Sarah's hand laced gently through his. He looked towards her, seeing some shy and uncomfortable sort of expression on her face. "Sarah?"

"Jareth," she answered back, her eyes not meeting his. When they did, however, he wished they hadn't. Her eyes were filled with turmoil. He wanted to ease the pain on her face, but he hadn't the faintest idea how to, and he wasn't sure she'd let him. His hand lifted and he reached forward to touch her and he watched as her eyes fell closed and she turned her face willingly into his touch.

So much had happened in these weeks; so many seemingly impossible things that had occurred, from Sarah calling his name to meeting his daughter for the first time. It was enough to break a man. He was not entirely certain if he was broken at this point. "Sarah."

Without further word or comment, he drug her against him, embracing her tightly. His body reacted to her closeness, had always reacted, but he didn't want that. His heart didn't want that. He held her for a long time, his face pressed into her shoulder, one hand gripping her hip, the other 'round the back of her head stroking her soft hair. "Come to bed with me," he whispered softly. "Not to make love, but to be with me."

He felt her shift, and he drew back, looking down into her face, seeing confusion and curiosity in her deep green eyes. He didn't speak further, but a sudden understanding came to her eyes and she gave a faintly timid nod that seemed to him, a little out of character. However, if she was feeling unsteady and uncertain as he was, then he supposed it was understandable. Besides, it was the first time he'd invited her to his own room. Every other night, if they spent it together, it had been in her own bed.

He drew her down the hall to the large double doors in front of his room and gently set his hand upon it. "Sarah, rest your palm beside mine." That curious look again, but she did as he requested and the doors swung open.

"What was that," she asked, looking up at him.

He hesitated to tell her, but decided it was a little late for that. "I keyed this room so it would recognize you." The answer obviously surprised her, because her eyes widened and lips parted innocently. "Had I not, it would not have allowed you inside, and if you tried to enter, it might have harmed you."

"Oh," she breathed, and he realized that she saw something in that that he wasn't sure he wanted her to see just yet. "Then...that's why you've always come to my room?"

Slowly, he nodded, thinking that might not have been the only knowledge she'd gathered. "I need never be keyed to a room because the Labyrinth recognizes me. It will not harm me. However it might recognize you, you are not a sovereign, and it might seek to harm you to protect me...even if I don't need it."

She smiled faintly and as they entered, he saw her fondly caress the door. His heart twisted a little in his chest, but he managed to convince himself that it was nothing more than hunger pains. As if catching that stray thought, a tray appeared on the table that sat in front of the window, with two chairs pushed up on either side of it. He saw Sarah notice as well and the smile broadened. "Did this room just read my mind?"

He gave her a faintly guilty smile. "Perhaps a bit." Gently, he led her towards one of the chairs and waited until she was comfortably sat before he seated himself.

The meal was light fare, some fruits, cheeses and breads. He saw the sliced peaches that were dusted with sugar and speared one with a fork, lifting it in offering to the woman who shared his table. She eyed it, and then glanced up at him with an arched brow. "Peaches again?"

He gave her a smile, knowing it showed all of his teeth and her cheeks flushed faintly. An intriguing response. "I've always had a fondness for peaches," he countered, still offering the fruit to her. "Do you want it?"

She glanced up at his face for a moment, then back at the peach. Then, wonder of wonders, she closed her eyes and parted her lips. It was remarkably similar to the expression she wore when he kissed her – he should know, he'd peaked a few times – and he nearly choked. Covering himself, he slipped the peach past her lips and watched her bite down on the end.

Damn, he was about to say sod the plan regarding holding her. How could a mortal woman have so much innate sexuality? Once she finished her bite, her eyes opened and she looked up at him through her coal colored lashes. His breath fled him and he set the fork down, gently wiping some of the juice away from her lips with his thumb. It was like she was magic, she seduced him without even trying.

Time to change the subject, he decided, returning his gaze to his food and dropping his hand. "Sarah, we have to talk," he said softly.

He felt her tension before he looked up. Anxiety was written on her face and he saw her twist the napkin between her hands. When she realized he was watching her, she quickly took a bite of bread and a sip of water. "About what?"

She couldn't quite keep that worry out of her voice, he noticed. Gently, he set one hand over hers. "You needn't worry, precious. It is only regarding what happened those last few moments in the carriage. Not about...our relationship." He wasn't sure how he managed to keep his voice steady, but somehow, he did it. He saw her relax and a smile graced his lips, but he knew it looked sad; a pathetic parody of happiness. "Sarah, I believe the Underground is trying to change you in its image."

She looked at him, surprised. "What do you mean?"

He sliced a few berries and arranged them on a piece of bread before beginning to mash them up. "It happens sometimes. When a person has been here awhile, they...change. They are still human, that never changes, but they are no longer 'mortal'. It may be because you have already been to the Underground once, or because of how close you kept magic to your life or-" he cut himself off, almost afraid to voice that thought.

"Or," she prompted, and her hand came to rest on his own.

He lifted his gaze from the bread and its bruised berries. Her green eyes searched his own for an answer, but she didn't speak further, simply waiting for him. He sighed. "Or it might be due to our relationship."

She blinked in surprise. "What?"

He didn't want to continue, to speak of their relationship, so he returned to the original subject. "Whatever the cause, you are starting to develop magical...talents of your own. I've seen it twice now, and the first time was not in the carriage."

"It wasn't?" She looked startled, a reasonable reaction, he supposed.

Gently, he lifted her hand, kissing her palm lightly. "At the ball, whenever you were 'in character' – your ridiculous, bubble-headed persona – your face changed just slightly. Not a change of character, a change of appearance. You cast a glamour on yourself, which made others more willing to believe that you were, in fact, a twit. Only Kieran and I saw through that glamour, because we had seen you without it, and we knew that the other was your real face."

She looked surprised, as if she hadn't realized that she'd done that. Likely, it hadn't been on purpose, but she was managing things that most apprentices would have great difficulty with. "Then, in the carriage was that bubble shield. A brilliant piece of work, I might add. It not only shielded us from being impaled, it cushioned us against broken bones as well."

She flushed under the praise, but looked faintly uncomfortable. "Then the reason I was so exhausted afterwards," it was phrased as a question, so he treated it as one.

"Was because you used up quite a bit of energy. As I mentioned regarding the movement and transportation spell, it does require energy to cast any magic. What you did in that carriage was a great deal more difficult than simply casting a glamour, so it stands to reason that you'd be quite tired after," he continued to caress her hand with his own, then chanced a glance at her face.

She was quiet, musing, her thoughts now turned inward. Her hand tightened around his own after a moment, and she stood, tugging him away from the table. He went willingly, if slightly bemused, following her as she led him towards the bed. She sat on the edge of it, looking up at him, her eyes large and strangely vulnerable. "Jareth, why did you bring me into your room?" The question was gently worded but he couldn't help the faint sting of resentment he felt towards her.

"I told you why," he countered.

Sadness that he hated to see flickered into that gaze. He couldn't tear his own away from her, he was pinned, stripped bare before her. The power this woman held over him was maddening. "That's not what I mean. You always slept in my room, you always held me away from you, you never..." Her eyes darted away from his and he knew she was hiding her own emotions from him. "Why now? Why today?"

He sighed, sitting beside her on the bed and catching her cheek gently in his gloved hand. "Darling, you need not look into it. I would simply have you lay with me. I am not asking you to give your pledge to remain at my side, or that you swear you will always be mine. I am not so foolish as that. I am not so naïve."

"Jareth-"

He silenced her with his lips, leaning into her, caressing her hair back from her face. Easily, his fingers found the laces of her corset, loosening them until he could ease the corset over her head. In truth, he wanted her scent on his sheets, at least for a while. A way to further torment himself, he supposed, but he continued skimming her clothing off of her. Once her skin was bare, he tucked her into his bed and stripped himself, climbing in with her.

She had a moonstruck look on her face, her cheeks were softly pink. He lay at her side, on his own, closing his eyes and breathing her scent. "Just rest, precious thing...just sleep..." He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head lightly on her shoulder.

He felt her hesitation, and then, her hand came up, toying gently with his hair, her face turned towards him and he felt her lips graze his forehead. He sighed softly, a smile turning up his lips. "Jareth," her sleepy voice met with his ears and he glanced up at her, finding her eyes half-closed, and knew she was already drifting off. "Don't think...that I'll forget our discussion...just because you're a good kisser..."

He arched a brow. "Only good?"

Even in her tired state, a little lightening flashed in her eyes. "If you have to ask," she yawned mid-sentence, "then I will assume that was a rhetorical question..." Then her eyes slipped closed fully, but her lips let one last word slip free. "Idiot..."

He chuckled softly, nuzzling her soft skin with his cheek and closed his eyes, letting sleep pull him into his grasp as well.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Bram looked over his small kingship, not really seeing it because he was too lost in thought. He'd always expected betrayal from those closest to him. It was part of the reason he'd refused to acknowledge this son who tried so hard to gain his affection. He intentionally made the boy do things that most people would refuse, put the boy in situations where he could see how deeply those loyalties ran.

This one would have been his last mission. Perhaps his advisers were correct and he was half-mad, but he'd always loved his sons, and Kieran had always been different.

His marriage to the woman who had been his queen had not been because of love, and while he had grown to care for the woman and respect her ability to rule and support him, Kieran's mother had been the woman he _had_ loved. He'd loved all of his sons, but his youngest had been special. He'd never had an issue standing on the field of battle, had hated the Goblin King as much as he, himself, had hated the man. If the man had not struck his beloved down on the field, perhaps he would have never raged against that kingdom so badly.

Then again, perhaps it was his rage against that kingdom, which had caused this. After all, if he had done as he should have and named Kieran his heir after that battle, if he had moved his family and kingdom onwards from the pain of loss...

Perhaps his own son would not have betrayed him for a child.

He closed his eyes, putting a hand to his face. He could tell he still hovered on the edge of madness, but since his son had left, the fury had cooled. He could look back on his actions and, for the first time in many years, see with the clarity that surprised him. He had made too many mistakes handling that boy. "Adaia, what must you think of me...your fool of a king," he breathed, resting his forearms on the balcony.

Was it the shock or grief breaking through to him, he wondered, staring up at the night sky. His orders regarding his wayward son had been to return him and the princess. A girl he'd almost...he squeezed his eyes shut against the peaceful view.

What had happened to him? When had he become so power-hungry that he would try to harm a child, would even think of killing his only remaining son? He ran a hand through his wild hair and lifted his eyes to the sky. The sound of boots behind him drew his attention. He turned and found his master of the guard standing there. "Alastar," he said quietly. "What news?"

The man seemed to measure him for a long moment. Alastar was his lover's brother and he had one of the best military minds in his kingdom. He also had a face that was almost painfully similar to his beloved Adaia. "They have not been captured."

Bram surprised himself by sighing in relief. Obviously, the other man was surprised as well. Gold eyes pierced his own and the king found himself turning away first.

"You...seem pleased by that. Did you not wish revenge for young Kieran's 'betrayal'." The other man seemed to be sizing him up, his lips pulled into a light frown.

Bram gave the man a small, sad smile. "I don't know anymore. There is a part of me that wants to choke him with my own hands," he admitted with a sigh. "However now there is a part that remembers my bright-eyed boy who loved his parents above all else. I am torn, Alastar. He betrayed me, he is on the side of the Goblin King-"

"I think you're mistaken, Bram." Alastar said, his voice as quiet, but firm. Bram looked towards the other man, surprised. Alastar's golden eyes were hooded. "I do not think that he is on the side of the Goblin King at all, I believe they have the same goal, which is why it seems as such."

The king frowned, not liking the fact that his captain interrupted him, but waiting for the man to continue regardless. When the man didn't jump ahead, he prompted, "and that is?"

Alastar turned towards him, those golden eyes saddened, a faint smile on his lips. "Protecting the princess," he said simply. "I was on duty during the ball. I am not blind. He looks at that girl the same way you once looked upon Adaia. He is in love with her. He still loves you, and he hates this betrayal as much as you, but he will defend the woman who holds his heart."

Bram closed his eyes on his friends face, knowing his own showed the grief he felt. "Then what do you recommend, old friend? My kingdom is against him, Fachen has already been named successor after me, what good is finding out these things now?"

Alastar sighed softly. "I know not, my king. Perhaps...if the circumstances were different, then you could go to the Goblin Kingdom and attempt to make amends with your son..."

There was a soft laugh behind him and suddenly, pain exploded in his back. Dumbfounded, Bram opened his eyes, staring into the equally shocked face of his old friend. He coughed and blood splattered Alastar's armor. He looked down, at the blade that had pieced his spine and protruded from his chest. Breath stirred his hair.

"I thought for a moment you were a proper king, Bram. I can see now that I was mistaken..."

He turned towards the voice, finding Fachen there with a glint in his eyes. He tried to speak to his nephew, but only bubbles issued past his lips with a faint wheezing sound.

"Fachen, what have you done?" Alastar sounded horrified.

His vision was going slowly dark. He could still hear the voices of his old friend and his nephew, but he couldn't fully understand the words any longer. His body was going numb, beyond the pain, into a blissful, peaceful oblivion.

"He was weak! So focused on sentimental dreams that he obviously cannot face the reality of the situation he is in. Those mercenaries will have followed my orders and slipped a poisoned blade into those two wretches, and now..." Fachen laughed. "Now this kingdom is mine...and you...will face execution as well..."

Bram thought he felt Alastar's arms around him as the sword was torn from him. Slowly, he slipped to the ground, supported only by his friend. He heard quiet steps moving away from him. He lifted his hand, gripping his friends. He felt the friend gently remove his ring, one bearing the family crest, and heard faint words against his ear.

"I will take this to Kieran." It was a promise between friends, one he knew the honorable Alastar would keep.

Then, the pain was gone, and he felt a soft caress against his face and opened his eyes. Dark hair and light, gold eyes and blue. Lover and wife. They smiled at him, smiles of welcome, and he sighed softly, one final breath as he died.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran jolted awake, feeling sharp pain in his side and a curious weight on his chest. He breathed sharply, feeling disoriented, laying on his back in a bed that was covered with soft silk. "Where am I," he breathed, looking around the dark room, trying to determine his location.

The weight shifted and he turned, looking at it. His nose filled with hair and he reached up to brush it away, only to wince in pain. "Ow...ow..."

"You shouldn't move. You're still hurt," Erin's voice was near him, and he suddenly identified what exactly was causing that heavy feeling. She shifted away from him, and a warm candle-light glowed nearby. She touched the match to the candle and then, slowly, turned back to him. She looked tired, and her eyes were red, slightly tear-bright. After a moment, she moved towards him again, sitting on the bed beside him, her feet tucked beneath her. "I should go tell dad and mom..."

He had a vague memory of them being found, of leather boots, and of losing consciousness shortly after that. She was still wearing her dusty traveling clothes and there were faint marks where she'd bled. The shirt had several tears along the sleeves. "Erin..."

She gave him a tiny smile and her hand wrapped around his. Then, the smile slipped away and she looked serious. When she looked serious, she looked much older than twelve. "I was worried," she said quietly, her eyes not meeting his. "Even the healer wasn't sure if you were going to make it." Her eyes lifted and he suddenly realized what those red-eyes meant.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, ignoring the pain in his side. With gentle care, he touched the corners of her eyes and felt his heart twist viciously. "I'm alright, Erin," he promised. "I won't leave you."

Her eyes widened and a faint blush colored her cheeks. The lighting was dim enough he could pretend he didn't see it. "Don't disturb your parents just yet. I want more rest before I try to face the world."

She leaned over, blowing out the candle and rather than move away, he felt her weight against him once more. He could feel her shifting a little bit for a few more moments and when she settled, he did as well, turning his face into her hair, not caring that she still smelled like the road and blood. He sighed softly, something in him unraveling, relaxing. For the first time in what felt like ages, he felt him slip off into a sleep that was not plagued by fear or nightmares. He sighed her name softly, and pulled her a little bit closer.


	15. Chapter 14

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Fourteen

Fachen stood at the front of the large group of fae. He had adopted a sad, grieved demeanor that he didn't actually feel. "I find that I must be the bearer of bad news. Not only has our prince and heir betrayed our kingdom, it appears that his uncle, Lord Alastar has betrayed us all as well. Last evening, when I was speaking to the king regarding the future of this kingdom, he was assassinated by none other than the captain of the guard."

Gasps and whispers, tears, moans of grief echoed out from the crowd. Even mad, these people loved their former king, for he had done as much good as harm to the kingdom. "It is my belief," he continued, "that Alastar was planted here by the Goblin Kingdom, in order to do just what he has done. Our only option is to go to war and drive the blight that is the Goblin King and his lineage out of existence entirely."

Amid the nods of agreement and murmuring, a single voice of descent called from the crowd. "But how?"

There were women crying into the shoulders of furious men, and he smiled darkly. "We will eliminate the Goblin Kingdom from the world. We will attack them and destroy them. I have received word from a trusted official that the wreckage of the Goblin King's palanquin has been discovered. The Goblin King and the Champion were not found in the wreckage. No doubt the traitors will head straight for that kingdom. We will kill two birds with one stone."

Hope on the faces of the people, grim resignation on the faces of the men, who would be going to battle. When it was over, he could take care of the rules he didn't like, and then they could begin taking over the Unseelie courts once more. This time, rather than wasting time and resources on other borderlands, he'd break a hole in the middle and destroy the goblin kingdom...then he would head straight for Oberon.

He chuckled darkly as he left the throne room, fingering the gold circlet he'd claimed for himself. At least he could learn from Bram's mistakes...

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran returned to the waking world slowly and the first thing he noticed was that he was alone. The window was open and light was shining into the room, and Erin wasn't there. He winced as he forced himself into a sitting position and saw clean clothes were laid on a chair within the room. Moving towards them hurt, but he did it. Memories of what had occurred after he and his charge sought refuge in the tree were still fuzzy. He supposed that even though he didn't recognize the room, not waking up in a dungeon should be a good thing.

But where was she?

Pulling the shirt over his head hurt worse than he thought, but he recognized his state of mind and knew he wouldn't stop pushing ahead until he saw Erin was unharmed with his own eyes. Breeches were next. His boots were set beside the chair and he managed to get those on without help before sending out mental feelers, trying to find her through sense.

He left the room, only to be surprised by a goblin which scurried past.

He almost fell against the wall to avoid the thing, wincing as the wound stretched once again. He was dizzy and felt horribly sick, but he was not going to pass out again until he found her. He didn't care if this was part of the Goblin Kingdom or if it was something else.

Several goblins stopped upon seeing him up and walking and ran off almost immediately. Where they were going he didn't know, nor did it matter, because it was towards Erin, so he followed their general direction. The hallways were long, lit mostly by the bright sunlight. Several times he turned corners and found himself facing dead ends that made no sense to him at all.

After several wrong turns, he was getting ready to give up, his stubborn attitude already severely taxed by his exhaustion and the pain from his wound. He leaned against the wall sighing in frustration. Pride was the only thing that kept him from sinking to the ground right there.

"Injured people should know when to stay in bed," came a tart voice down the hall a bit. He blinked, turning in that direction and he saw Sarah Williams, the Labyrinth champion and Erin's mother, coming down the hall towards him.

He sagged faintly, staring at her. "Then we made it...? Erin is safe?"

She moved towards him and pulled his arm around her shoulder. "You've been asleep for three days. The wound in your side was dealt by a poisoned weapon." Her arm was at his waist and he felt himself bristling a bit at being supported by a woman. She gave him a look as if she sensed it. "If your pride is getting in the way of me helping you, I could just drop you and let you fall on your ass. It is my understanding that being horribly embarrassed does worlds for a man's perspective."

"And a woman's," he muttered almost under his breath, but loud enough that she could hear it.

To his surprise, rather than getting cross, she laughed aloud and shook her head. "Sometimes," she admitted. "Although you should behave, since I'm not taking you back to your room." Her face grew serious. "It was bad. Jareth said that the weapons used on you had been coated in iron dust. It wasn't as bad for Erin. She's still mostly mortal and since she's female, her body absorbed it better."

He relaxed a bit. "Where is she?"

Sarah gave him an amused smile, one tinged with something that was almost sadness. "She's in the gardens. She and I were getting our first magic lesson from Jareth."

He looked at her in surprise. "You need lessons?"

She gave a faint, embarrassed shrug. "It's a long story. I'm sure they won't mind if you join us. As long as you sit down and watch, rather than trying to put on a strong front for Erin and wind up busting your ass." She pushed open a door and blindingly bright light hit his face.

He flinched, his eyes squinting as he was led outside. The smell of smoke assaulted his nostrils almost immediately. It smelled like wet wood trying to catch fire. When his eyes focused, he saw that the problem wasn't that the wood was trying to catch fire. It had long since caught fire and two fae were trying to put the flames out.

"Hell's fire, what happened when I was gone," Sarah muttered, shaking her head.

Jareth must have heard her, because he looked up with a faint grin. "Hell's fire is exactly what happened, precious," he answered, and then his eyes moved towards him. Kieran felt himself grow faintly tense from those mismatched eyes staring at him. "I see you were right. Rather than continuing to convalesce, our patient has gotten out of bed."

Kieran looked towards Erin, but she was already running towards them. Her eyes were bright with happiness and he relaxed at the sight. Once she was upon them, she threw her arms around his waist and hugged the air out of him. She was putting pressure against the wound, which hurt, but he wasn't going to ask her to stop.

Sarah drifted away from his side, and Erin helped him sit on the grass before she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head on his shoulder. "We were worried about you," she said quietly. "You woke up for a few minutes the first night, but you haven't since then. I thought-" she stopped herself, and gave a bright but wobbly smile. "It doesn't matter," she said, lowering her face so that her hair fell to cover it. He could see that she'd gotten it cut into the style she'd first had two months prior – had it only been two months ago?

He reached up, gently tousling her hair. For a long moment, he simply savored the contact, her closeness doing more than hours of bed rest could. "Go on, little one, finish your lesson. I'll still be here when it's over." He gave her a wicked smile. "Just try not to set me on fire."

She scowled faintly, but gave him a grudging kiss on the cheek, before heading back to where her parents were speaking quietly.

Not for the first time, Kieran noticed how when she was with her mother, she seemed to laugh and smile more. When she'd been at his castle, even when they were in private, she seemed slightly guarded, although her ability to pretend otherwise often led people to think that she was at ease some of the time. He'd noticed it a bit, but she'd been slightly tense around him since the morning she'd woken to find him wrapped around her.

But not here.

It was as if she were able to trust him easier, to not take advantage of her, or perhaps she was trusting her parents from saving her from any advances that might not be wanted. He frowned a bit, lowering his gaze. It didn't matter. He shouldn't even be thinking about making advances until she was more receptive to them.

The practice went on for a while longer, until the woman linked arms with the girl and led her away from Jareth. The fae king watched them wander off with a faint look of longing in his eyes. Then, those mismatched eyes pierced him and he squirmed in discomfort. He was over a century old, but that look in anyone's eyes vaguely reminded him of whenever something had annoyed his mother.

The man sat on the grass beside him, slouching back comfortably on his elbows. "You aren't even going to ask how I knew where you'd be?"

He slanted a glance towards the monarch, his lips pulling down into a faint frown. "I'm too busy counting my fingers, toes and heartbeats and being glad that I'm still alive." Feeling a little awkward, he lowered his head. "Thank you," he offered.

He man pulled out a blade of grass, rolling it between his fingers as he watched Erin and Sarah wander the garden from where he sat. "A raven told me," he continued. He went quiet for a long moment, just looking at him.

"I don't know what you're trying to ask," he said, frowning.

Jareth studied him for a long minute. "It was the same raven who came to deliver the message regarding you protecting my daughter. I didn't really think much of it at the time, however it's been bothering me. Why are ravens living in servitude to you?"

He sighed. "Oh, that," he saw irritation in Jareth's eyes at his response, but he ignored it. "My parents weren't married, but that doesn't mean my mother wasn't a princess. She just wasn't fae, and that made her unable to become the queen according to the unseelie courts. They had a princess already picked out for Bram, the only daughter of a lord who had no sons." He refused to look at the king beside him, instead searching a patch of clovers near him. "My father loved my mother, but he also cared for the princess of his arranged match and to appease the courts, married her, but he kept my mother close, and the Queen did not mind that my father took a lover.

"When my mother came to my father's court as master of the guard, she brought her most faithful servants from her family home. So to answer why ravens are serving me, they've been serving me since I was a child, and they became my servants alone when my mother died." He lifted his face finally, looking at Jareth. "My mother was their princess, after all."

Jareth put a hand to his face. "You're telling me that I killed the princess of the ravens during that war?"

A sad smile turned up his lips. "No. You killed my father's lover and master of the guard. When she left them with her servants, they were all cast out." He started trying to get up, but immediately wished he hadn't. "Damn, this hurts..." he swore, putting a hand to his side.

"Well, the wound was deep and was becoming septic when we found you. If not for the skill of my healer, you could have still died." Jareth looked back towards them and sighed. "Come, let's get you back into bed." A hand rested on his arm and Kieran felt the disorienting sensation of being in two places at once for a moment, before he found himself sitting on his bed, and Jareth sitting in a chair beside it.

He blinked. "Okay, now I'm more dizzy," he muttered.

Jareth, the ripe bastard, laughed as he stood. "Good. Then maybe this time you'll stay in bed." He reached over, setting a hand on his forehead. "Rest a bit. I have a feeling that you'll need it. If Sarah finds her way in here, let her know that I'm in my study." He turned and left the room, leaving Kieran alone to his thoughts.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Jareth sat at his desk, fingering the correspondence which rested upon it.

They had reclaimed Erin days ago, and he had begun greeting each day since with a great deal of trepidation. He should send them back to the Above, get them out of harm's way, because he knew that war was coming to the Goblin Kingdom. He knew as well that every time he tried to force his will upon his beloved Sarah she would question him, would fight against him, even if it was for her own good.

Grimly, he smiled, leaning back in his chair and looking out the window.

Then again, the Above was only safe if his enemies couldn't find her and their child. Really, as long as she was alive, she would be a target for those who had eyes for gaining his kingdom, and they were his only weaknesses.

He laughed at himself, a weak, sad laugh. He could use that excuse, try to keep her with him forever. If he did, she would only come to resent him. No. He was only fooling himself. He could only put this off for so long. When the battle was won, he had to send her back. At that point, the rest wouldn't matter. She would be safe in her world, able to raise their daughter as she saw fit. And before he lost the last of himself, he would speak with Oberon about her receiving protection for services rendered.

Besides, their child would be the next ruler of the goblins. Due to her marriage to Kieran, he could make a deal where she would be allowed to come of age in her own world before being returned to this one, with that boy acting as the ruling monarch in her place.

And if Sarah chose to return with her daughter-

He put his hands in his face. He wouldn't be there. This would be their price. Sarah may eventually return, may try to call upon him in her own world, but he would be lost in the fragments of his mind and to save her life, he would give up every last piece of himself. Sarah would be safe, but he would be gone. There would be nothing of him left to call back, just a husk that bore his face. He doubted he would even recognize her.

It was a price he would willingly pay if it meant her safety.

He heard his door open and waited for the goblin to address him before he would take the time to gather himself and look at them. He needed that moment, and he would take it. He was a king, after all and letting any subject see the misting in his eyes was unacceptable.

"You two are going to drive me _nuts_," came his daughter's voice and his head snapped up. Erin was standing there, leaning back against the door, a look of frustration on her face. He lowered his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Erin, what are you talking about?"

"You and mom."

Slowly, he lowered his hand, looking at the girl. Her face was twisted into that obstinate expression that he recognized from his mother's own face. He smiled faintly, amused. "Dear girl, I fail to see how the business of your mother and I is any concern of yours."

She marched right up to the desk and set her hands down, frowning deeply. "Well then you're blind as a bat and twice as stupid as a goat."

He choked faintly, resisting the urge to laugh. "Erin, this is between your mother and I-"

She snorted. "And me." She straightened, her hands curling into fists. "You don't know what it was like. I've watched her for twelve years; she had to practically kill herself to raise me. She was always alone and I was all she had." She slapped the top of the desk and he saw tears misting in her eyes. "And now that you two are together, you're just going to walk away from each other? Again? So I can go home and watch her work too hard, cry too much, and wish again and again that either of you had just forgotten the past and set aside their pride for a minute?"

Jareth stared up at her, reached up with one hand and gently brushed the tear that had escaped her control from her cheek. After a long moment, he sighed, cupping her cheek. "Darling girl, if it would make your mother happy, I would give her the world. Whichever she wanted. But if I did not allow her to make her own choice, she may come to resent me. And I'd rather be mad with grief at losing her for a third time than see her grow to hate me."

She closed her eyes, biting her lip and looking very much like her twelve years. Jareth saw a child that had spent years being her mother's only source of strength, a child who had not gotten the chance to cry because she didn't want her mother to worry about her. "Then...why won't you ask her what she wants?"

He sighed softly, releasing her. He stood and moved towards the window, looking outside. Sarah was still wandering among the flowers in the garden and he watched her in sadness. "Once upon a time," he spoke softly, still watching the woman below. "Once upon a time there was a proud king. His every whim and wish was carried out and admittedly he grew arrogant and spoiled. Then, on the way back to his kingdom from another he caught sight of a young maid, dressed as a princess, acting out a play in a glen. It is likely that the king fell in love with her as soon as he set eyes upon her." He turned, glancing towards his daughter. He gave her a faint smile at the perplexed look on her face. "He decided he wanted her. He would accept no other. He had no concept of love at the time. She was merely something he coveted, desired. Several times, he went to the kingdom that was her home, would watch her act out her plays in that glen."

He lowered his eyes, leaning against the wall. "Then, one day, the maid called upon him, wishing away a person who she held dear without really wanting it to happen. She was just lashing out and the king knew that, but he took the child, lured the girl into his kingdom, in hopes of finally obtaining her. He cheated, he lied, and he seduced her. He pulled out every trick he knew in order to make her fail, because if she failed...she would be his forever. She would never be able to get away."

Erin fell into a chair with a thump. She was staring at him, confused, but there was the hints of awareness in her eyes, and he knew she was drawing lines between points and heading towards a conclusion. "But she succeeded. She won back the child."

He smiled at her, but he knew it looked sick and sad. "She won back the child. Over the course of her trials, the king had fallen even more in love with the girl, had realized what the feeling really was. However it was too late. He made his offer, an offer to give the girl anything she desired. She didn't hear him. Instead, she took her precious burden and vanished from his life. Forever, or so he thought."

She was silent, watching him, and she lowered her head. "It must have hurt very badly," she said quietly.

"More so the second time," he admitted. "Twice, I have practically begged her to be mine and mine alone. Twice she has turned her back on me. Although, I admit that she had her reasons both times, it is not pride that keeps my tongue captive. It is fear." He laughed, letting his head fall back against the stone wall. "I am terrified that if I make myself vulnerable like that one more time, she will truly kill me."

When she lifted her face, it she had that stubborn face of his beloved Sarah once again. "You coward."

"Perhaps," he allowed. He was silent for a long moment, and then looked at her. "Child, go look in on Kieran. I'm sure that boy's wondering where you went off to."

She stood slowly, and then walked towards him, giving him a short hug around his waist. "If you love each other, why can't you trust each other?" The whispered words startled him, and without another word, Erin released him and left him standing by the window. He heard the door shut behind her and slowly lifted a hand to his face.

Was she right? Were they letting the past color the present?

He sighed softly, rubbing his forehead. It would appear that he needed to speak to Sarah soon. Before she made her decision and was gone.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah sighed softly, stretching her arms over her head. She'd been wandering for a bit, looking for Erin or Jareth, when she passed Kieran's room and heard her daughter's voice, sounding broken by sobs. Concern gripped her and she moved towards the door, but stopped when her daughter's words became clear.

"They are so STUPID!"

Anger was something she'd always expected from her daughter, but she'd never heard her daughter cry. She went still at the doorway, leaning forward so she could peer through the crack. Kieran's back was against the headboard, and Erin sat in his lap, curled up against his chest, shaking as he gently stroked her hair. His focus was entirely on the girl, so he didn't notice her at the doorway.

"You spoke to your father?"

Sarah saw her daughter nod, watched the girl's hands tighten in the young man's shirt. "Stupid... so stupid. They're both being cowards! If they don't take a chance, how are they ever going to be happy? And if mom leaves...if mom leaves..." She became unable to speak, she was just trembling and sobbing.

Kieran sighed, resting his cheek against her daughter's head. "I know. If a human and fae have sex and then get separated, the fae goes insane."

Shock ripped through her and she looked in at them. How could Jareth have not mentioned it-

She knew the answer without thinking about it. He didn't want her to weigh that into her decision.

"It's not fair. It's just not fair. I want mom to be happy...like she was at that ball..." Erin lifted her head, looking at her companion. "I've never seen her that happy. I think that they're the only ones who could really make each other happy. Like soul mates or something..."

"Soul mates, huh?" He smiled sadly at her. "Well, unless one of them wakes up, there's nothing we can do. They both appear to be very stubborn." Erin made a soft sniffling noise and her face was pressed into his shoulder once again.

Sarah leaned against the wall, out of sight and felt tears welling in her own eyes. Was this how everything had to end? Her miserable in the above, dealing with Alex's attitude, apart from the man she loved; Jareth in the Underground, insane from losing her for a third time? She covered her mouth and stifled a sob. Then, she stopped, choked on the exhaled grief.

Why was she crying _now_ of all times?

She straightened, curled her hands into fists and lifted her head, striding away from Kieran's room. She was going to go find that little fairy idiot and she was going to have words with him. If it was the last thing she did.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Erin waited until she heard her mother's footsteps heading away from the room before she sat up and accepted the kerchief that Kieran offered her. He wore an amused, if exasperated, expression on his face. "See. Told you."

"So you did, little one." He ruffled her hair and smiled faintly for a moment before it slid away. "Do you think this will actually work?"

"I don't know," she said, sitting back on her heels. "They're both really stubborn. But short of tying them to chairs in a magic-proof room, I don't know any other way to do this..."

Kieran sighed softly, pulling her head against his chest. "Well, let's give them awhile, then we'll go track down those two idiots." He heard her chuckle softly and smiled. "To be honest, I'm glad you had this idea. I'm nowhere near ready to be a king yet."

She gave him a skeptical look, frowning faintly. "You might not do too bad, you know."

He shook his head, chuckling. "Thank you for the vote of confidence," he said, then pulled her snug against his side, resting his head against her own.

Erin sighed softly and shifted a bit, her arm going over his stomach.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah was coming into his office just as he was getting ready to leave it. Her face was twisted into a stubborn expression and Jareth felt his stomach drop out. Slowly, he moved from around the desk as Sarah's eyes fixed him with a look of furious intensity.

She didn't say anything. She just looked directly into his eyes as she marched across the room. When she was standing in front of him, she grabbed the medallion around his neck and pulled him down until her lips met his. He reacted on instinct more than thought, his hands finding her waist, pulling her forcefully against him as his lips parted. He could taste her pain and it echoed his own.

For a brief instant fear gripped him, edging towards terror. _NO_, he thought, gripping her tighter, knowing his fingers would bruise her delicate flesh, but fear made him desperate and desperation made him less worried about bruising her than losing her.

Every time she tried to pull back, he captured her lips after giving her only a moment to regain her breath and too fast for her to begin the conversation. After no time at all, she wrenched back, holding him away from her and staring up into his eyes with that defiance lighting her face. Her chest was heaving with her breaths, and he noticed he felt a bit winded as well. "Jareth, we _have_ to talk," she said, her voice breaking as she spoke.

He closed his eyes, feeling her hand gently cup his face. "Sarah," he began unable to look in her eyes as he mentally prepared to set his pride aside and beg her to not say the words he feared would leave her mouth. Before he could continue, however, his door burst open and a crow landed on his carpet, looking up at them for a long moment before there was a puff of darkness and the crow was gone, a man standing in his place.


	16. Chapter 15

The Goblin King's Daughter

By: DemonSaya

Chapter Fifteen

The man, previously black bird, stood before them looking winded and unkempt.

Sarah and Jareth had jumped apart at the sudden intrusion; Jareth stepped forward slightly pulling Sarah behind him, his stance defensive.

The man just looked at them. His hand was curled into a fist, pressed against his side. Jareth felt himself startle a bit as he recognized the resemblance between this man and the convalescing Kieran. He felt Sarah's hand on his arm and saw her eyes were focused where the man's hand was pressed, where blood seemed to be leaking from. "Who are you?"

The man panted softly. "I am Alastar, former Master of the Guard under Bram." Grief filled those golden eyes. "I have a message...for the Goblin King...as well as my...nephew."

"Alastar?" Kieran stood in the doorway, looking pale and unsteady, staring at the man in the room. He staggered forward, gripping the man both to support and to stay up as well. "Alastar, what are you doing here? Did father find out that you helped me!" From the corner of his eyes, Jareth could see Erin hovering at the entrance, as though uncertain if she should leave or stay.

The man shook his head. "No...Kieran..."

Jareth sighed heavily and moved forward, grabbing a chair back and spinning it around as he grabbed the back of Kieran's shirt and hauled him into the chair. "Sit down, you young fool." He pulled the man's hand away from the wound and lightly rested a hand upon it. "Sarah, go get Esmie."

"No," Alastar objected. "The champion should remain as well..."

Jareth frowned, and then grabbed another chair, dumping the other man into that one. He snapped a finger and a goblin skittered out of the shadows. "Locate Esmie. Bring her here immediately. I'm not detecting poison, but that doesn't mean this should not be treated with care." Then he turned towards Sarah, apologizing to her with his eyes. Their conversation would have to wait. Hopefully that would give him more time to think of how to make the request he feared that she would deny him.

The goblin was gone within moments, but Jareth knew there were others present now, watching, waiting.

"What is this message," Jareth finally asked, barely sparing his daughter a glance as she moved into the room.

Alastar took an unsteady breath and lifted the hand that had pressed against his wound, holding it out to Kieran. When the boy put his own hand out, the older man opened his hand and a heavy, man's ring fell. Jareth watched several emotions cross the youth's face as his hand closed around the ring. Most obvious out of them was grief. "Father is dead," he said quietly.

Erin quietly put her arms around Kieran's shoulders.

"Fachen has taken control of the court." Alastar said, looking tired. "He plans to march on the Goblin Kingdom, however, he does not know that his highness and the champion yet live. Likely, he believes that if they are, they wander the wilds and that attacking now would catch the kingdom by surprise." He shook his head. "Mab is on her way, but she is old and cannot move as fast anymore. The message had to be delivered, so I had to go ahead..."

"Mab will be fine," Jareth said, amused.

Alastar, Kieran and Erin looked at him as though perplexed. He shrugged slightly. "After the last war, it seemed a good idea to have a spy within the halls of your father's court. She was low enough down the totem pole that no one would look twice in her direction and a few spells concealed her true age and face. She's very gifted."

"But she's been there since before the war," Kieran objected.

He gave the youth a look of amusement. "Not exactly. The original Mab was her mother, and she'd worked for your family for years. When I needed someone's assistance from inside that house, her daughter stepped up and took on the guise of old Mab. Her mother is living a quiet life in the Goblin City with her own little personal guard of goblins." He waved a hand at their confusion. "Mab was a gifted witch, and because she was so gifted, those less...talented than she did not treat her well. The original Mab left when your kingdom attacked mine and came here seeking shelter. You might imagine that her daughter wasn't pleased with her mother's treatment..."

They were silent, absorbing that information for awhile. Finally, Esmie entered, and looked at the two men dark haired men, huffing in disapproval at seeing Kieran out of his bed before moving towards the other man, setting her hand over the wound. "It seems to be relatively minor, highness. Once your meeting has adjourned, I can put a healing salve on it, and I suspect it will be healed by morning."

Jareth nodded. "Very well." A goblin scurried into the room, whispered into Jareth's ear, frowned deeply, and then looked towards Alastar and Kieran. "It would appear that the young fool has made his move already. Fachen and his army are on the edges of my Labyrinth."

Kieran went pale and Alastar lowered his head, shaking it.

Sarah rested a hand on his arm and Jareth turned towards her. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice meant only for her ears. "It appears that talk we must have will have to wait." He turned, preparing to leave the room, but Sarah held him still. "Sarah-"

"I'm coming with you," she said quietly.

"I am as well," Erin said, moving towards them.

Jareth arched a brow at the woman and child. "While I cannot stop Sarah, I must request that you stay here, Erin." His gaze fixed on Kieran. "You will stay here and protect my daughter. Alastar, if you are under the protection of my country, I expect you to act as such..." Then he pulled away from his most precious thing and moved towards the hallway.

Erin chased after him, her face furious. "So mom can go, but I can't! Look, I know you might not know, but I'm pretty valuable in a fight!"

He stopped, turning towards her. "Child, I am well aware of that. That's why I want you here. I said I wanted Kieran to protect you only to give him a reason to stay abed. He is in no shape to go into this fight, and if given the opportunity, he would. I need you to stay behind, because chances are they will send someone beyond our lines to kill whoever remains." He caught her chin, angling her face up so he could look down at her, his face firm, frustrated. "I need you to protect he who cannot protect himself. You may be my daughter, but you are also the daughter of Sarah Williams and believe me, that means something. As a child of fifteen your mother defeated me. It is no stretch of the imagination to believe that you are able to defend your husband at age twelve."

She flushed darkly. "It was just pretend-"

"Darling child, that boy did what he could to defend you. That does not make it pretend. In this realm, Kieran is your husband, regardless of your physical relationship with each other. And he loves you."

Her eyes lifted to him, stubborn. "Like you love mom?"

He smiled. "I can't speak for him, so I wouldn't go that far. I have reordered time and moved stars for your mother. Until he does something to measure up like that...well..." He shrugged and continued moving down the hall, leaving Erin standing there. "I know you won't disappoint me, Erin."

He could feel the girl's eyes upon his back as he walked. He turned the corner and was released from that stare.

The truth was, he didn't want Erin or Kieran on that field. He did not delude himself to think they'd be necessarily safe from harm here at the castle, but at least they wouldn't be in the thick of battle. After all, if anything happened, they would rule the Goblin Kingdom. It didn't matter if it was on the battlefield or after the last of their enemies had fallen. He had to protect them.

When he reached his suite of rooms, he walked within, closing the door silently behind him. From his closet, he drew his goblin armor, laying it out on a chair. He arranged it for several moments before he heard his door open and shut just as silently as when he'd entered. Even without looking, he knew Sarah was standing there, looking at him. "Hello, precious," he said quietly.

She didn't answer. Not with words, anyways. Instead, two arms wrapped around his waist and her small hands rested over his heart. He felt her forehead rested against his back. In order to distract himself from the woman behind him, he stared off at the distance.

The sun was kissing the horizon, turning the sky a wash of purples and golds, the farthest edges darkening to navy already. The first stars were peeking out at him. Along the edges of his Labyrinth, in the field that so long ago he had battled Bram's men, he could see fires burning. The army was waiting.

"When will we go?"

He turned towards her. Her arms didn't withdraw. No, she kept her embrace, only lifting her head and looking at him. There was fear and pain in her eyes, but it was aimed at him. She wasn't afraid of the battle. He sighed, lifting a hand, caressing her face. "On the morrow. Tonight will be preparations. The goblin which informed me regarding the army moving towards us will rouse my troops this eve." He searched her eyes for a long moment. "Sarah-"

"Can I stay with you tonight?" The words left her in a rush, and he found himself staring down at her in surprise. Her eyes lowered, veiled by her coal black lashes. The deeper lines between her brows and around her mouth had smoothed out with her time in the Underground, her physical change already taking place. How could he have not noticed it before now?

"To what purpose," he asked quietly, gently guiding her face up so he could look at her.

Tears were standing in her eyes and she shifted her grip, her hands now behind his neck. "Kiss me and we'll see." The words were a teasing order, but he could still see the fear in her eyes. He hated seeing that fear, so he leaned down, capturing her lips with his own. He would have gladly rushed forward, used sex to mask the fear they both felt, as he'd done several other times, but her lips moved under his so slowly, so carefully.

He felt her fingertips smooth his cheekbones, over his ears, teasing through his hair. Her lips slanted, moist beneath his own, parted, _caressed_ until he thought he might go mad with longing. "Sarah," he begged, gripping her tightly wanting to kiss her harder, wanting her to feel his pain.

The kiss ended with his plea and he opened his eyes seeking – finding – her own. Her eyes were damp with tears and he cupped her face, kissing them away. Her hands slipped, holding his own against her face as she blinked the tears away as well. Uncertain of how or when he'd started, he was kissing her once again, gently, coaxing and passionate, but keeping things as slow as her own kiss had been.

He wasn't certain if he was taking the time to memorize her feel and taste, so that when she left him it would always be with him, even when he didn't know what it was. Slowly, carefully. Then, he felt her hands leave his hair and she was freeing his shirt from his breeches and he pulled back a bit, looking down at her. She hesitated, but only for a moment. When that brief pause ended, it was because she pulled the shirt over his head.

He looked down at her in surprise, but her eyes held a pleading quality of her own and she let the shirt fall to the floor before catching his neck and pulling him down to kiss her again. Still slow, still sweet.

They had sex since her return. Quick frantic couplings, laced with desperation. Explosions of sexual tension and anger. But not like this. They hadn't made love since-

Since the night before her wedding.

His breath left him, a pained, frightened moan. She pulled back, looking up at him and he knew that she was thinking the same thing as he, remembering the same thing. Gently, she touched his lips, silencing any words he might speak before she leaned forward, brushing her lips against his neck, down to his collar bone. Her fingers teased and aroused him, but he was afraid that she was saying goodbye once again.

_Not now_.

She retreated again and she lifted her hands to the buttons on her vest. It was only then that he noticed their trembling. He reached forward, stopping her until she lifted her gaze and looked at him. Her eyes were begging him to not stop her. As if that was within his power. Gently, he moved her hands away and resumed opening the vest. Once the last large button was free, her chest heaved with a sigh, as though she couldn't draw a full breath with it on.

The vest joined his shirt on the floor and he reached for the shirt, flipping those buttons open with hands slowed by their own trembling. Once the shirt was open, he moved to push it aside, but Sarah caught his gloved hands, and lifted them to her face. She kissed the leather gloved palms, and then she set about removing their trappings. As she freed his digits, she kissed each fingertip, caressed them, pressed her face against his palm before releasing them.

Slowly, he reached forward, his hands slipping within her shirt, caressing her sides and back. The next kiss wasn't quite as slow or gentle, but it was still as sweet. He pulled her against his chest, his hands ghosting the shirt off of her, tangling with her own fingers. "Sarah," he whispered against her lips, worshiping the sound of her name, the feel of her against him.

She sighed in response, a sound that was filled with relief. "Love me," she replied against his mouth.

He gripped and caressed her skin, moaning. "Yes. Always." He wasn't aware of responding to her, but her breath was a ragged sob on his mouth. He lifted her, walking towards his bed and laid her upon the silken sheets and he gently pulled her shoes off, and then skimmed her denim pants down her legs. He breathed her name as he knelt on the bed above her.

Warm, moss green eyes met his own and her hands reached up, reached for him. "Jareth." Her hands caressed his face and she examined him closely, as if she were memorizing the look and feel of him, just as he was doing to her.

Slowly, he lowered himself atop her and heard her breath leave her in a sweet gasp. Sliding his hands along her, he gripped and caressed her flesh, enjoying the feel of her for what he feared was the last time. "I want to burn you into my memory," he spoke quietly against her ear, feeling her skin grow warm beneath his hands. "I want to mark your soul with my own."

Her arms embraced him and she rocked, arching into him, her eyes falling closed. He kissed her throat, slipped his hands up, caressing her breasts gently, his thumb strumming over her taut peaks and sipped the whimpered moan from her lips. He called to her, stroking her until she was crying out to him, tears on her face from her need and he gave her everything she asked for and more before he finally gave into his own need, spilling inside of her.

His arms trembled as he lowered himself on top of her. He might have minded if the woman in his arms wasn't trembling as well. She moved slowly, her arms coming up around him, gripping the back of his shoulders, holding him tight against herself as she began to shake harder and harder. He knew she was crying, but she was silent, so he could pretend that she wasn't. Gently he wrapped her in his arms as well, rolling onto his side, still inside of her. He stroked her hair, rested his chin on her head and sighed.

After a few moments, she hiccuped softly and lifted her face. "Sorry...it was a little intense," she offered and he cupped her face with one hand, looking down at her. Her eyes still had tears standing in them. Gently, he kissed them away. "Not just..." she shook her head. "It was the memories..."

"Yes," he agreed.

She lifted her face to look at him, as if seeing him for the first time. "Jareth, I know..." she lowered her face, suddenly shy. "I know I don't say it often, but I love you. I never stopped loving you."

Speechless, he used the hand on her face to guide it up once again, kissing her lips softly. "Shhhh," he breathed softly, drinking in the scent of her around him. "I know, darling." Gently, he stroked her hair back from her face, staring down at her. "Whatever happens, precious, I need you to know I love you as well. More than life, more than breath. More than there are stars in the sky."

Eyes overflowed and her hands lifted to cover her face. He drew them away and kissed her softly. "Ah, precious," he said softly. "Tomorrow will be a busy day. Let us take the rest of this evening to rest. We can deal with the rest later. Please. Let us deal with it later."

He pulled from inside her, causing them both to moan, then drew the blankets over them before he tucked her close to his body. She didn't speak for a long moment, then she whispered "yes" against his skin and he tightened his arms around her. He closed his eyes, hiding his face into her hair and listening to the soft whisper of her breathing as he slowly drifted into dreams.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Kieran tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable in the large bed. Too large, too empty, he had decided ages ago, and yet he remained where he lay. His excursion earlier that day had been far too taxing on him and even if he could go to Erin's side, he wasn't certain he should. This was not his home, and he had no doubt that she took solace in the fact that their marriage had only been to protect her.

He had hoped he'd made it clear that that wasn't entirely true, had told her that he loved her. He had hoped that the brief, chaste kiss she'd given him as they'd fled his kingdom had meant that she felt even a fraction for him that he felt for her. Yet, since he'd woken, she'd maintained the distance of friends, a distance that chafed at him and comforted him.

It reminded him that she was still a girl, not yet a woman.

He couldn't help but feel that he would have been better off not meeting her until she was at least sixteen. Perhaps even later, because being physically mature didn't mean she would necessarily welcome him as a lover-

Which was not something he needed to be thinking about.

He sighed, sitting up and preparing to pace about the room, hopefully wearing himself out enough that he could sleep. However, just as he threw his legs over the edge of the bed, there was a brief knock at the door and the person outside did not wait for an answer.

Erin stood there, wearing a long nightgown with ruffles at the cuffs, buttoned all the way up to her throat. Her fingers must have been fascinating, because she was watching them as she toyed with them. She looked embarrassed, even shy.

He sat back, eying her, feeling slightly wary. "Erin, is everything alright?"

She lifted her face, her own serious. She wasn't smiling, just looked at him, quiet and serious. Then she mumbled something, her cheeks turning faintly pink. He wasn't certain if she was aware of the flush or if stubborn pride kept her from averting her gaze despite it.

Knowing her, it was probably the latter.

"I'm sorry," he asked, frowning. "What did you say?"

She lifted her foot as if to step forward and hesitated, planting her foot back down. "Can I sleep here," she mumbled only slightly louder and this time her eyes averted as she spoke, but her head didn't move. Her fingers were still doing their complex acrobatics, weaving in and out of each other. That and the blush were her only sign of any nerves at all. "My bed is too big. It's uncomfortable."

He looked at her in surprise, and then gave her a warm smile, patting the bed beside him. "Couldn't sleep without me, then?"

She began moving towards him, her face lowered again. "Why were you getting out of bed?" He chuckled as she neatly side-stepped his question with one of her own. When she was standing in front of him, he took her hands in his and helped her sit on the edge of the bed.

"Come on, little one. We can prop up the pillows and have a story before we go to sleep as well if you'd like," he teased lightly, but she gave him a wry look.

"I read two books trying to bore myself to sleep. Somehow, the stuff that father puts me to sleep with during lessons is rather interesting if I'm doing self-study." She cocked her head to the side, her lips pursed.

He laughed when she didn't take the bait. "Fair enough. Then again, perhaps it's his voice that does it. I've heard that sometimes people have such...soothing reading voices, it can put a whole castle to sleep." He saw her smile in answer and she turned, propping up the pillows.

"You mean monotonous. He has so much inflection when he's just speaking, but he's got a lousy reading voice. He makes the most interesting subjects seem so dull...until the practical exercises. Those are always very...eventful," she managed, sounding slightly airy.

He leaned back with a chuckle, only to faintly frown when she sprang out of bed. His eyes followed her to a small bookshelf, where she retrieved a book and returned to the bed. "Mom, on the other hand, breathes life into her stories. I'm lucky that she's been reading stories to me for so long, because I'm apparently rather good as well." She hopped back up next to him and pulled the blankets up, as though there was nothing wrong with her being in a grown man's bed.

"Erin," he said quietly.

She turned to look at him. She fiddled with the book for a moment, obviously thinking of what she was going to say. "It's okay," she said quietly. "It's going to be okay." Her eyes lifted and he saw a girl who was looking up at him for reassurance.

In that moment, he realized that was why she was here. She felt that she couldn't go to her mother and express concern, couldn't break the mask she'd worn her entire life of being strong enough to take anything the world would throw at her. She'd come to him because she viewed him as a friend – and because she trusted him. The thought warmed him, soothed his own nerves.

Gently, he touched her head, stroked her hair, cupped her cheek. He gave her a smile that was for her alone and nodded. "Yeah," he said, then leaned back against the pillows with her, while she opened the book and began to read aloud. At some point, he noticed her voice would lag and then pick back up and when he opened eyes he didn't realize he'd closed, he found her listing forward over the book. Gently, he drew the book away from her grasp and helped her lay down. She curled up on her side, facing him and he felt her hand curl in his shirt sleeve. He couldn't help but smile as sleep finally pulled him within its grasp as well.

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Sarah rediscovered that waking in Jareth's bed was a decidedly pleasant experience. She'd noticed that the first time, but this morning was a softer waking. She stared at the rich, dark velvet canopy that hung from the top, the curtains hanging around it. They were tied back and light was trickling in through the window, illuminating the man that still slept beside her.

At some point during the evening, they'd moved. She'd rolled onto her back and Jareth was curled around her, one arm pillowing her head still and the other resting lightly over her waist. One of his legs was wrapped around her own, as if he feared that he would wake and find her gone and his body was trying to prevent that, even in his sleep.

She smiled faintly, lifting a hand and tenderly brushing the hair from his face. Then, the smile slipped away. The sound of war drums in the distance called her from the warm embrace of her lover and she moved off the bed, finding a robe where he'd tossed it at another time and wrapped the black silk around herself. She moved towards the windows and looked out at the encampment that was just outside the Labyrinth.

"You needn't worry. They are not so foolish as to attempt a direct attack on the Labyrinth," came a sleep drugged voice from the bed.

She turned, finding he had rolled over onto his stomach, one hand pillowing his cheek. He was watching her, his strange eyes taking in her form by the window. "I didn't mean to wake you," she offered, slightly.

"It was inevitable," he said, giving her a small smile. "I woke the second you shifted to leave."

Which meant he was either incredibly sensitive to movement in his bed, or her pulling away from him had frightened him into thinking that she was leaving right then. She walked towards the bed and sat on the edge, her hand gently cupping his face. "Jareth-"

He lifted a hand, touching her lips. "Not yet," he murmured and she saw a faint sadness in his eyes.

Would he ever let her say the words she wanted, she wondered. Instead of asking him, which could lead to an argument, she batted his hand away and smiled warmly. "I was just going to say that I love you."

That must have been the wrong thing to say, because his face paled a bit and his arms went around her. Downy hair tickled her skin as his head came to rest over her heart. He sighed and it was like the sound was wrung from his body. Gently, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gently stroked his back. He was afraid and she knew it. Not of the upcoming battle. Her beloved king did not fear his own death.

He was afraid she would leave him again.

Until they were able to sit down and speak with each other there was nothing she could do to assuage his concerns. "We should get up," she murmured softly, caressing his hair lightly with her hands.

He shifted and his arms wound slowly from around her. He wasn't looking at her as he lifted himself from on top of her. There was something in his eyes that was heartbreaking – something compounded by the way he avoided her gaze. He rose from the bed and she watched as he moved across the room to stand by the window. He appeared heedless of the fact that he was nude, of the fact that she couldn't tear her eyes from him. His face was in a carefully neutral expression as he looked down at the invading army. He moved towards where he'd lay his armor and began to dress himself.

No movement was wasted, everything was precise in intention, even as he buttoned the gloves at his wrist once again. Then, fully dressed, he snapped his fingers and a goblin popped into existence. Sarah sat, pulling the robe closed over her chest and watched.

"Squibble," Jareth said, his voice hard and commanding. "You are to go to High King Oberon and deliver a message." With the wave of a hand, a piece of paper was in his grasp and he moved towards his vanity table, pulling out a small stub of wax and a seal. He melted the black wax, pressing the softened end against the paper then pressed the seal into it before handing it to the goblin.

The small goblin gave him a toothy grin, glancing towards Sarah, then saluted them both and disappeared with a puff of smoke.

Sarah rose slowly from the bed, her lips pulled into a faint frown. "Now the whole castle is going to know that we're sleeping together," she teased lightly, seeing the lines of stress around her lover's face and mouth. Concern tugged at her and she walked towards him, gently setting a hand down on his arm. He looked towards her in surprise and seemed to read the concern on her face because the tightness around his eyes relaxed a bit.

"Does that bother you, love?"

She smiled, shaking her head. The lines relaxed further and he put his arms around her, drawing her against his chest. "Come, darling, let's get you outfitted for battle."

.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.o0o.

Fachen watched as the goblins began pouring onto the field, standing back from the others, the length of the field between them. Among the goblins were various dwarven creatures, some strange monsters that he suspected were the mythical fieries that were only said to dwell in the forest within the Labyrinth. On his own side were fae commoners, trolls, and magical golems which were powered by the strongest magicians in the unseelie courts.

The goblin army was large, yet not as vast as his own. He wasn't certain it this was arrogance on their part, but without a leader they were nothing.

Just as that thought entered his mind, a strange monster – a mount – he noticed, left the Labyrinth and started moving towards the front of the line. On its back was a fae dressed entirely in black armor, and behind him was a woman dressed in armor as well. Dark, chocolate hair flowed from beneath her helm and he realized with a start that he was looking at the Goblin King and his mortal slut.

Unexpected.

Fachen felt the discomfort ripple among his troops and glanced back at them. No doubt they'd heard from the survivors that the Goblin King was the fiercest sort of fighter, how that king had laid waste to all of Bram's best trained fighters, including Adaia, who had been his lover and master of the guard.

However, the two he sought to kill were nowhere to be seen.

That was fine. If they weren't on the battle, he knew where they were. His lips turned up into a sly smile. In the chaos of the fight, he would slip away and go deal with his little problems...


	17. Note to my Loyal Readers

Note to my loyal readers:

Chapter 16 of The Goblin King's Daughter is currently with the beta and being edited, whenever said beta can find the time to do edits. Currently, she is experiencing life and vacation and baby showers, and has a rather full plate, so rather than being a nag, I'm sitting back and letting her. It's her first child, so she deserves it.

Now, to those who aren't already aware, I'm posting chapters on DeviantArt as well, under the name DemonSaya (my oldest pen name), and I've posted the pre-beta chapter there already. So, if you'd like to read it in it's unedited, grammatically incorrect and probably error ridden pseudo-glory, you can find it at:

http : / demonsaya . deviantart . com

Please note that you must take out the spaces. I had to put them in or fanfiction . net eats them. Anyways, I hope everyone enjoys and sorry for the wait.

Sincerely,

Saya / Chibi / Pat W.


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